


Observation Methods in Data Collection

by sillythings



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillythings/pseuds/sillythings
Summary: I read somewhere that it was obvious that Zelda was falling for Link because she treated him like a science experiment, which allowed her to talk and think about him without really acknowledging that she had feelings for him.  I loved this interpretation SO MUCH! So, here is my attempt at filling in some of those details.





	1. Excerpt 1 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

My hypothesis regarding my appointed knight, Link, was wrong. So very wrong.  My reasoning was based upon faulty evidence, or rather, a very biased view the the evidence.  I had assumed he remained silent in my presence because he despised me.  I have been selfish and childish, assuming no one could know my pain, assuming everyone was as frustrated with me as I am with myself for not accessing this cursed power.  I must be factual, however, and admit that to most of my people and to my father, I AM  _ heir to a throne of nothing _ .     However, while the burden of sealing away Calamity Ganon is on my shoulders, it is not my burden alone.  He...Link... shoulders as much of the burden and suffers in his own stoic way just as much as I.  He has simply mastered the art of not showing it, while I...tumultuous creature that I am...I cannot help myself.  I am able to contain my frustration and despair to a point until I feel like flask left on a flame too long, and I boil over, taking out my pain on whomever is near.  Unfortunately for my appointed knight, he is  _ always _ near.  I feel such shame when I think of his confusion over my anger.  I tried sending him away, but he takes his duty as my knight very seriously and will not leave my side.  He was not appointed to be my whipping boy, but  to be my...Hyrule’s champion.  He deserves better.  Urbosa, my dear friend, had said as much before, but it took an act of great courage on his part to make me see it.  I have been such a fool.

 

And so, I have made my apologies to him and have decided that in the interest of not doing him any further disservice, as we are both in this together, I will make every attempt to record and analyze whatever wisdom and advice can be gleaned from listening to and observing him.  He is a true hero who has been chosen by the sword.  Perhaps in analyzing him, I can learn to unlock my own power and become the heroine my kingdom needs.  

 

I am somewhat worried that such research could be considered...well... _ unethical _ .  Research done on sapient subjects should only be carried out with express permission by said subject, but if I told him, that would contaminate the evidence, wouldn’t it?  I want him to be natural with me, to speak freely and openly.  If he knew I was studying him, he would not behave in a natural manner.  Surely this causes no more harm than studying a silent princess flower in the wild, leaving it unplucked and unharmed?

I wish I could share this decision with Impa or Purah, to ask for their advice on how to best go about this study, but though they are my dear friends, I do not want to be chastised for my unconventional methods.  Urbosa may understand my reasons, but she is no scholar, and given her previous... _interference_... in regards to my dealings with my appointed knight...I do not think it best to ask for her collaboration on this particular project.  

 

* * *

 

Even for a champion, Link is remarkably dedicated to his training and to his duty.  Where I once found fault in his determination to attend me at every waking moment (and sleeping moment, since he guards my rest during our travels), I see now that it is not a lack of trust in my own abilities but his own noble pursuit in fulfilling all aspects of his responsibility as my appointed knight.  How wrong I was to scold him for such fidelity.  Though I fulfill my obligations with my daily prayers and sojourns to the holy places, I am not transformed by them.  My oblations are a tiresome task, and often I feel as though I am simply going through the motions of worship.  

 

Link, however, is a knight through and through, and he fulfills his duty with a vivacity that is frankly inspiring.  I cannot help but reflect upon the time he saved me from the Yiga warriors.  He dispatched the three who sought to take my life with a ferocity and strength that I have yet to see equaled.  Truly, the sword has found its master.  He took down the would-be assassins swiftly and without even seeming to lose his breath.  It was I who had to be led, shaking, from the desert to the Kara Kara Bazaar though I did little more than watch as he saved me.  My stomach still roils at the remembrance of the men lying dead at our feet, but Link never quavered.  

He held my hair back as I was sick there in the sand.  I would say that I have never been more ashamed, but honestly, the last time I returned from the Spring of Courage and felt the disappointed eyes of my father upon me was far worse.  Link's quiet pragmatism was very comforting at that moment.  Not a word passed his lips, but he gently swept my hair back until I was finished and found a clean spot on his tunic to wipe my mouth when I was finished.  He waited patiently until I was calmed enough to begin the short journey back to the bazaar, giving me his strong arm for support. 

 

Urbosa laughed at him later, when we were safely tucked away in a silken tent, cold fruit juice in hand and Gerudo guards outside.  

 

“Well, well, little champion,” she said to him, “You did well by your princess.”  She looked him up and down with a sly look, “and I have a spare pair of sirwal if you have wet your britches after your brush with death.”  She winked and laughed again.  

 

Link frowned at that jest, but he did need a wash.  He was covered in sweat, sand, blood...and well, _vomit_.  Ultimately, he did take up the offer of spare clothes while his own (and mine) were laundered.   Urbosa had a set of desert voe armor with her, I cannot imagine why, and these were what she offered to Link.  

 

“I don’t think you’ll need that spaulder, here in the tent,” Urbosa told him, “but it will be useful for traveling the desert tomorrow,” she grinned at Link, such a strange knowing look!  

 

“I’m sure my tunic will be dry by tomorrow,” was the laconic reply.  He had a red flush across his cheeks and his...well, his chest.  A desert voe actually wears very little in the way of a shirt.  Just trousers, really, but Link looked as if he had already gotten too much sun as it was.  I’m sure the tunic would offer much more protection from sunburn, though the desert voe armor would certainly be valuable for other reasons.  Like keeping cool, for example.  Link certainly had nothing to be ashamed of.  His training had left him at peak physical condition.  

 

“I’m sure,” Urbosa then said, “but perhaps our princess will maintain the Gerudo ways for the rest of her visit?”  

 

She had given me the previously mentioned sirwal and a thin green silk top to match.  While a bit more revealing than what I would normally choose to wear, I was much more comfortable in the heat.  I remembered Link’s boldness in taking on the Yiga, and I attempted to channel but a small portion of that bravado.

 

“Well,” I said, “when in Gerudo town…right, Sir Knight?”  Link had the strangest look on his face.  He had gone pale beneath his red flush and he swallowed two or three times before he nodded.

 

Urbosa laughed again and called me a  _ clever, little vai _ , though I still haven’t been able to figure out why.  It was simply the practical choice.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

Sheikah technology has occupied much of my research of late, for obvious reasons, but anatomy is a subject that I shall not neglect any longer, despite my father’s worry that my scholarship keeps me from my destiny.  Indeed, he is wrong, for this new focus should help me in my devotions.  My knees and back often ache after hours of prayer, and I wondered if there might be some exercises that could be done to increase my stamina.  Link exercises daily, wasting no moment in lazy repose.  His resulting strength is a credit to him and his role as champion of Hyrule, chosen of the sword that seals the darkness.

 

I have no gift with weaponry, but I have seen Link train with his sword enough now to see how much strength it takes to wield.  It stands to reason that the goddess likewise demands strength in the one who is to inherit her power.  And so, I shall set myself on a training schedule.  

 

Developing muscles in the arms and shoulders will allow me to keep my hands raised in prayer for longer.  My gluteus muscles and legs are developing well due to the increased time spent on horseback as we travel to each of the Divine Beasts.  I think more time in the saddle will not only allow me to continue the technology research on the Guardians and Beasts, but it will also strengthen my body for my spiritual pursuits.  Truly, it will mean a maximum benefit for both!  Though a word of complaint has never passed Link's lips, I do hope he will not mind the spending time away from the castle.  He does enjoy a good meal, and those are easy to come by in the royal dining hall.  Nevertheless, we must set out for the Zora kingdom soon, adjustments on the Vah Ruta are needed as Mipha has not quite the stature and perhaps not the strength to operate it as smoothly as is needed.  He is sure to find a tasty dinner and a warm...are the Zora warm?  Again, curse my ignorance of all but the most basic of biology and anatomy.  Being fish folk, it stands to reason that they are cold blooded though their hearts are certainly kind and generous.  So, while it may not be a warm welcome exactly, we are sure to be among friends once we arrive.

 

* * *

 

The days spent riding across Hyrule have certainly been strenuous for me!  I am certain I’ve rarely spent so much time riding and walking in the sunshine.  It is good for the body and the soul, and I have never felt better in my life.  I told Link so this evening by the fire.  He even laughed when I showed him how strong my biceps were coming from gripping the reins, though he let me know that I should try guiding my horse using my legs.  

“Your legs seem strong enough,” he said, casting a quick glance at my legs which I had stretched out before me. “Make sure your legs are directly under your hips and that your legs touch your horse from your thigh all the way to your ankle.”  He gestured, waving one hand down the length of my leg. “You can then communicate just by moving your pelvis and squeezing him with your thighs.”

 

I can’t quite explain why I felt so exhilarated by this revelation, but I eagerly look forward to his lessons on the morrow when he has promised to show me exactly what he means.  He will have me observe and then watch me try, correcting where needed.  I am fortunate to be able to learn from his expertise.

 

* * *

 

Link said my legs seemed strong enough, but _oh_ , I feel as though they are made of chuchu jelly after today’s ride!  I am still so lacking in strength, especially when compared to him.   We did not set straight out on our journey this morning but took time for a brief riding lesson.  It was beautiful day and the sun shone hot, so he had his champion’s tunic folded neatly in his saddle bag ready to be donned as soon as we entered the Zora kingdom.  This was fortunate as he was clad only in his light shirt,  I had ample opportunity to watch the interplay of his muscles while he rode his Epona before me in a wide loop .  Clearly one does need great strength and control to communicate so much with just a squeeze of his legs.   His quadriceps are very well developed, and there is such a curious line where the abdominal muscles meet the hip flexors.  I have no such definition. What swift silent communication!  No surprise that he would be good at that!  Perhaps I shall one day be able to exert such control with just a tilt of my hips.  A great rider I may never be, but I learned much from him today.

He took his time in observing me ride, quite scientific he was and very thorough!  Perhaps he learns from me as I learn from him, if I may be so arrogant to assume that I have anything to teach him.  At any rate, his methods were, if I do say so myself, effective.  He took his time helping me adjust my seat and align my hips, making sure I was comfortable and in control.  "Remember to breathe!" he kept calling to me, which oddly enough, was more difficult than you may imagine.  He took his time with my horse as well, stroking its velvety nose and offering an apple from his pack, a true sacrifice for my ravenous knight!  When I questioned Link about this, he looked up at me where I sat mounted and smiled.

"You must be sure to take time to soothe your mount," he told me, "That's the only way it will know how you truly feel."  He then turned away quickly to lay his forehead against my horses muzzle and whickered gently at the beast.  My horse answered him back, a breathy little neigh, and then nibbled on his straw colored hair.  He laughed and gave it one last gentle pat before turning to attend Epona.   I must soon travel to the Spring of Wisdom, but I do think there is much wisdom to be found apart from such devotions.

 

But enough for now.  I must sleep, for tomorrow is a busy day of repair on Vah Ruta!


	2. Excerpt 2 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Mipha is a lovely. However, Zelda's little comment in her research journal about Mipha mastering the controls of the divine beast (not wanting to sound rude about it), made me think Zelda may have been just the tiniest bit jealous of Mipha -- either because she is a princess who has mastered her power and the Sheikah technology while Zelda is still struggling...or maybe for other reasons (ahem--Link).

Though the purpose of this research journal has been to analyze Link, I would do well to include some observations of the Zora princess, Mipha who is every bit the champion he is.  


 

Mipha is intelligent and beautiful.  When she wields the trident, she is fierce with a deadly aim.  Though her arms are strong in battle, her gentle hands are soft when she uses her magic to heal the sick and injured.  Such a tender, loving soul, but not even her own father, the mighty King Dorephan, will stand in her way when she has made up her mind.  I think I may have underestimated her.

 

She is everything a princess should be.

 

Everything I am not.

 

There is my old self-pity back again.  I can never leave it behind for long.  I am beyond lucky to have her for a champion.  What will happen to my kingdom if the sealing power fails to manifest?  At least our Mipha will be there to heal those who are wounded.  Perhaps the vague and mysterious prophecies are wrong (I much prefer the hard data found in scientific study).  Perhaps we are not looking for a  _ Zelda _ princess, but for a  _ Zora _ princess.  She has long been able to use her supernatural healing powers, and she certainly gets along well with the Master of the Sword.  

 

As comforting as it would be to abdicate my responsibilities and let Mipha’s grace save us all, I cannot deny my bloodline nor my duty to my realm.  My dear mother. How could I deny her? My memories of her are few, of my grandmother even fewer, but they had Hylia’s gift, and so it is my fate to bear the power as well...eventually.

 

In our attempt to cultivate wild plants domestically, we discovered that sometimes traits do not manifest in every generation.  We have learned also that expression of these traits can be affected by environmental influences.  Our attempts at cultivating the _ silent princess _ demonstrate this fact. When by luck, a seed does sprout, a  _ silent princess _ nurtured in the hothouse fails to bloom and thus cannot produce seeds for the next generation.  However, the exact same plant when transplanted to the wild will often produce blooms in abundance, but it's a tricky thing.  Many do not survive being uprooted and replanted.  Perhaps I, like the poor sterile sprouts in the castle hothouses, am just a dud -- a failed product of the Hylian breeding program. 

 

Unlike my father, King Dorephan trusts his daughter to follow her heart, even when she  has, shall we say,  _ unconventional  _ pursuits, like piloting the Divine Beast. Perhaps this is why she has been able to bloom into the admirable young Zora maiden that she is.  She has not been pruned to death.  It helps, I think,  that King Dorephan has another heir, a most winsome baby boy, Mipha’s little brother, Sidon.  He was born… _ hatched? It would be impolite to ask _ ...at any rate, he joined the family only a few years ago.  The Zora are long lived and develop slowly, so he is still a little fellow.  Mipha dotes upon her brother and adores her father, but they must share her affections with another. I know she loves me well, and I cannot imagine preparing for this coming battle without her.  However, I know that it is not for me alone that she gladly wears the champion’s blue.  She fights for Link, the champion of her heart.

 

It has been eye-opening to see Link among his childhood friends.  Before the trial of the sword and becoming my appointed knight, he must have been a rather outgoing, happy-go-lucky individual.  It's something I have difficulty relating to.  I have true friends in Impa and Urbosa, but so much of my childhood was spent in my training and devotions.  I simply was not allowed the time to play as the other children did.  I've snatched moments where I could, often behind my father’s back. With so much at stake, though, who has time to play?

 

However, allowing a child time to explore and experiment is important.  I see many of Link’s talents were cultivated during his childhood play.The children and their parents have reminded him several times of how he used to practice sword fighting, join in the diving contests, and swim races in the rivers with them.  The bonds of friendship have also grown into powerful allegiances which he has used to our advantage during this trip. Link was a great favorite of the Zora, until he grew up, so much faster than the Zora do, and left them behind to find his destiny.  I can’t help but feel some measure of guilt at this.  The sword chose Link, not I, but still, he is my appointed knight, and it is his duty to me that keeps him from his friends and his...more than friends.

 

With this guilty feeling plaguing me, I insisted that he take time with his friends when we returned from working on Vah Ruta.  Young Bazz challenged Link to a race in the river almost as soon as we returned from the beast, and with a rueful smile at Mipha and me, Link allowed himself to be pulled along by Bazz and the others down to the river.  

 

Mipha insisted we follow them and serve as judges. She wanted to be in the race too, I’m sure of it, but she held back out of deference for me.  It really would not be proper for Princess Zelda of Hyrule to splash about with the young ones in the water, though it did look like fun, and there were some curious species of snail to be found in this region that I would have liked to have observed in their natural habitat.  Nevertheless, I should have told Mipha to go along, to let her enjoy being with Link before he and I returned home, but I kept silent.  I did not mind being left alone, and I spend far too much of my time waist deep in spring water to envy anyone a swim, but some selfish impulse made me hold my tongue.   I console myself with the knowledge that at least Mipha had time with him this afternoon while I tinkered in the belly of the beast.  

 

Mipha watched Link as he stripped off his tunic and boots.  He flexed his arms and rolled his shoulders before climbing a nearby rock and executing a neat dive into the water.  He really has achieved a remarkable level of physical fitness, even when compared to other knights of his age.  He is easily the strongest of the Royal Guard.    


 

Mipha smiled down on Link as he easily cut through the water.

 

“He swims like a Zora, doesn't he?” she said lovingly, her beautiful golden eyes following his movement, but she was wrong.  Link is an excellent swimmer  _ for a Hylian _ .  His form was perfect, his strokes strong and even, but even the stripling youth Bazz was outdistancing Link.  It probably did not help that the water was fairly cold, and Link did not have a suit of Zora armor to enhance his speed and keep him warm.  Bazz won the race easily.

 

Link eventually emerged, in third place, blue-lipped and shivering.  In one hand, he held a sneaky river snail which, to my delight, he handed to me.

 

“No wonder you lost the race if you were collecting specimens!” I teased, “Goodness!  You do look cold!”  He really did.  His teeth chattered a bit as he climbed up the bank.  


 

Mipha laughed, “You should be wearing a Zora suit!  We could have asked Kodah to borrow her brother’s armor.  He would not have minded and she would not deny you.”

 

Link gave a tight smile but said nothing.  He reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head.  It stuck to his damp skin, and he struggled to tug it down. His wet trousers clung to him, the weight of the water causing them to ride indecently low on his slim hips and revealing a thin line of curling golden hair that disappeared into his waistband. Luckily, I was the only other Hylian around to be scandalized.  The Zora are not much bothered by clothing (or hair) one way or another since they generally do not have either, and it  _ was _ a rather absurd choice of swimming attire.  Better to have worn nothing at all, really.  I say this as someone who regularly wades into water wearing a long white dress, so I should know.  

 

Mipha laid a smooth hand on Link’s arm, stilling his struggle with his clothes.  

 

“If you will not borrow, you must let me make you your own for the next time you visit.” Her sweet earnest voice was curiously wistful and her eyes searched his face.  

 

He froze.  It was but for a split second, but I have been around him long enough to notice any crack in that stoic mask.  Link was startled.  He recovered quickly, shrugging into tunic and shrugging off her hand and comment at the same time.  Mipha did not seem to notice, but something frightened him.  A young man who I have seen kill three Yiga clan members at a time, who has killed innumerable bokoblins and moblins, was frightened by the gentle princess of the Zora.   Do I dare ask him why?

 

* * *

 

Though she has known Link for much longer than I have, I can't help but think Mipha’s infatuation blinds her just the tiniest bit.  Champion he may be, but he is certainly not perfect.  Even those of us with the blood of an actual goddess running in our veins are all too flawed.    


 

What kind of child would Link have been to earn such a steadfast love?  According to Mipha, he was a brave boy unafraid of danger, with a noble spirit, and a genuine heart.  The stories she loves to tell of him!  She recited many over dinner this evening while the subject of those stories busied himself with eating as much as possible though he still maintained some semblance of royal decorum.  He kept his mouth full and did not contribute to these recollections of his youth.  Thank goodness I love Mipha, and thank goodness for my courtly training, for I was sorely tempted to roll my eyes.  I would never hurt her feelings for anything, but while  Link is a brave, loyal knight and the chosen of the sword, he is not the paragon of perfection Mipha makes him out to be.

 

For one, sometimes Link smells like sweat and horse, especially after a particularly rigorous training session.   Does Mipha have any idea?  She has gills actually, so maybe she doesn't.  To be fair, I smell like sweat and axle grease myself often enough, but that’s neither here nor there.  In addition, he doesn't talk! At least not without a lot of effort on my part.  He does eventually open up, but oh, does he make you work for it! Maybe Mipha has never struggled to get him to talk to her...afterall, she knew him before the weight of the world settled on his shoulders.  

 

Even so, while I know Link would lay down his life for me, or Mipha, without hesitation, just ask him to lay down a skewer of meat.  At a proper table, he is civil and as well-mannered as one could expect a royal knight to be, but around a campfire, I have heard him belch and...well...do other things when he thought I was asleep or otherwise engaged.  Although, who knows what he has heard me do in my sleep as he sits watch.  There is a distressing thought!  He's at my side constantly, and I am a real, living girl who eats and sleeps and sweats and who sometimes gets a runny nose from standing in freezing springs, and I often have to stop our travels to relieve myself behind trees...Well, it’s no secret that I am a disaster of a princess, but no one is looking at me the way Mipha looks at Link.  

 

He _ is _ a hero, but not for the reasons Mipha seems to think.  He’s a hero because he’s as terrified as I am, but he carries on without complaint, patiently waiting for me to do my part so he does not have to face the evil alone.  I wonder if she knows what I know?  I do not feel that it is my place to share what Link confided to me, but if she is to love him, it should be for what he truly is, not for an idealized image of him.

 

I don't know if any of these observations are meaningful in my pursuit to unlock my own powers, but at least Vah Ruta is up and running, and I have a lovely little river snail to bring home to my laboratory.  I will try to take comfort in the little things.


	3. Excerpt 3 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

_Linny_. Link is at the center of a Zora love triangle. I really don't know what to do with this information. What kind of a flirt was he in his youth? What kind of a flirt is he now? What kind of person woos two girls at once and then leaves them both pining while he goes off to chase his destiny? A cad, that’s who. Poor Kodah. Her bitterness is as apparent as Mipha’s devotion. How harrowing to be an also-ran in love. I cannot help but relate to the feeling of inadequacy and the anger it breeds.

 

* * *

 

 I wonder if I've ever had any admirers. The court musician did compose a sentimental song comparing me to a goddess. It was performed before the entire court on my last birthday, but it felt like a backhanded sort of compliment. If only I were more like Hylia, my people would not need to fear the oncoming calamity. I sometimes wonder if my father commissioned that particular tune to goad me on in my training. It would not surprise me.

 

* * *

 

To appease my father, we took a long way home, making a detour to the Spring of Courage in west Necluda. I have completed my morning prayers, and we will stay here one more night to perform the prayers by moonlight. I am hopeful that even if this evening’s prayers prove fruitless, at least we may have time to look for flora to study this afternoon.

 

* * *

 

Link and I did take time in the late afternoon to take pictures with the Sheikah slate and gather ferns, herbs and flowers for future study. Even now, he keeps his silences, but he is ever curious during these expeditions and is my eager helper in recording and categorizing what we find. His studies have mainly focused on the art of war and combat, but he seems to enjoy these field studies. I’m glad to have something I can share with him.

The most exciting find of the day was a withered Silent Princess. I have gathered the spent flower and its seeds. I don’t suspect they will thrive back at the castle, but hope springs eternal. Perhaps there are more about in this area? In the night, they emit a gentle glow, so they may be easier to find this evening. No need to fear, however, that I will be all work and no pray. My appointed knight will keep me on the straight and narrow. I do not wish to fail him, or my kingdom.

Eventually, we sat under a large oak tree to rest. We would need to prepare for the night soon, but there was still time for quiet repose. Link sat with his legs stretched out before him, leaning back on his elbows, not quite prone, but definitely more relaxed than I had seen him in many days. It could have been the fact that he was on his best, knightly behavior in the Zora kingdom that made him so closed off and tense in the last day or so, or maybe it was something else. A soft smile was on his lips and those blue eyes of his were half-closed and a little dreamy. I wondered what, or who, he was thinking about.

I don’t know what came over me. Blame the location, I had prayed for courage after all, but I could not stop the words that came out of my mouth. “Do you love Mipha?” I blurted.

That got him. His head jerked and his elbows went out from under him, leaving him sprawled ungracefully, staring up at me.

“Wha-?” came the artless response. His eyes were wide open then! He scrambled to sit up straight and face me. The careful emotionless mask was gone. His cheeks were red, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Do you love Mipha?” I asked him again. My tone sounded so very matter-of-fact, but my heart was beginning to race at my boldness. What in the world was I doing? “Because I think she is in love with you.”

He stared at me for a beat longer before closing his eyes and sinking his head into his hands. An evening breeze began to blow gently, bringing with it a scent of woodsmoke and something earthy and herbal. It stirred a few wisps of his golden brown hair. The cool little breath of wind felt good on my forehead -- the blood thudding in my ears made me feel hot and dizzy.

“I know,” he groaned softly, finally answering me, and rubbing his forehead. I wanted to feel sorry for him, but he had not answered my question.

“You know she loves you,” I asked him. He gave a glum little nod.

“I always knew she had a kind of a crush on me, but we were just kids before. She looked up to me,” the words came out very slowly, as if they were being pulled from his mouth. “She--well, she made it fairly clear a few days ago that her feelings were a little more serious.”

Did she?! Link had been at my heels the entire trip except for the race at the river and when we were on Vah Ruta. Apparently, while I was elbow deep in gears and grease, they were looking out over the kingdom atop Vah Ruta’s trunk, making declarations of love.

“Do you love her?” I repeated the question I had started with. He still had not answered. He shot a look at me and then dropped his gaze into his lap where he picked at a stray thread on his trousers.

“I love her,” he admitted quietly, and my heart squeezed in the queerest way, and cold prickles ran down my neck and back at hearing those words. I schooled my face into an expressionless mask so that when he looked up, he saw a princess made of marble, though my heart was beating in my ears. Smooth and impassive, I waited for him to explain himself.

“I love her the same as you do, like everyone does” he continued, reaching out a hand to me before letting it fall aimlessly down to his side again. “She was my best friend, but I don’t love her like that.”

My heart squeezed again, painfully so, but it was different kind of pain, and I let out the breath I had been holding. I reached for the hand he had let fall and gave it a little squeeze.

“Well, she loves you like that,” I told him. “So, does Kodah for that matter, _Linny_.” He rolled his eyes and made a face at me.

“Kodah loves to make a scene,” Link snorted, “I’m not worried about her.” But he was worried about Mipha.

“Does she know how you feel?” I didn’t think she did. As open and loving as she was with him, I would be surprised if she did know that he did not return her romantic affection. Not that she would ever grow bitter like Kodah, but she would grieve. He shrugged, but then shook his head.

“I don't know what to do. She knows the fight against Ganon takes precedence over everything, but afterward…” His voice trailed off and the hand that I held grew lax. He sat pensive and still.

“Afterward…” I repeated. I hope there will be an afterward...where the worst of our worries are who we love and who loves us.

“She wants to marry me.” He said flatly. I confess I was stunned. Love is one thing, but marriage! As the Zora princess, she would have a duty to strengthen political bonds with her marriage. Those of us with royal blood can love who we wish, but we are to marry who were are told. Such rules have always made me question the whole purpose of love anyway. What good is it for a princess?

“Surely her father will object…” I started but he interrupted me.

“No,” Link groaned, “he trusts her judgement in all things. He'd never say no to Mipha.” He was right, of course. Also, King Dorephan liked Link very much. Despite the fact that Link was Hylian, not even of noble blood, the King would have no objections to his beloved daughter marrying a mighty champion and master of the sword that seals the darkness. Link was every bit as worthy as some blue-blooded prince. Any reasonable monarch would feel the same, and such matches were not unheard of. We sat silently for a moment as we both considered what a marriage to a Zora Princess would entail.

“She would outlive you by many years,” I began. He nodded. Link with grow gray and withered as Mipha retained her youth and stay many years in her prime. She would remain young and beautiful throughout their marriage...surely a benefit for him.

“How would you...I mean,” I felt a blush creep up my neck and burn my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I what I was about to ask. Link cast me a stricken look, apparently following my gist. “Surely she wants children...is it even possible?”

“I don't even know,” came the muttered reply as he stared off into the distance, his cheeks pink.

“Don’t you?” He made a noise of indignation at this question, and I found myself the focus of offended blue eyes.

“No!” He retorted. “Why would I?”

“Well, you've lived -- lived among the Zora…” I stammered, “You know their customs.” He was frowning at me, and I gulped before I continued. “I assumed you would know their biology as well.” It was a fair assumption!

“You're the scientist!” he countered. He meant it as a retort, but it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I fear so often that my father is right, that I am only playing at being a scholar, but I believe I am a much better scientist than princess most times. At least someone else thinks so too.

“Exactly! What do I know of love?” I replied and patted his hand. “I'm afraid I know very little about romantic entanglements.” He gave me an odd look, almost challenging.

“Don't you?” He threw my words back at me, but I was genuinely confused. I have no secret romance, no hidden admirers...do I?

“No?” I finally responded. I was surprised by his sudden change in demeanor.

“ _The halo of silken hair, like goddess light spills down, a finer gold than makes the royal crown,_ ” Link sing-songed. It took me a minute to recognize what he was singing. When I first heard the lyrics, they were sung in a much less sarcastic manner.

“My birthday song?” I asked. “What do you mean?” He rolled his eyes at me. At me!

“Do you think Mizri goes around writing love songs for just anyone?” he asked with an artful arch of his brow. Love song? I felt the heat rising in my cheeks again. It wasn't a love song...was it?

“Is that his name? Oh, dear. I've been calling him Tazir for months.” I really had. Poor fellow.

Link snickered, “I know.”

“Why did no one correct me?!” I was utterly exasperated, “But to answer your question, yes, he does write love songs...that's kind of the point of a court poet.” In my most patronizing tone, I do confess it now, I continued. “Being a warrior, I wouldn’t expect you know much about the courtly song tradition.”

“Yes, being a knight from a long line of royal knights...I wouldn’t know anything at all about that!” Such sarcasm! He rolled his eyes again. The disrespect was nearly unbearable to my royal person, but I rather liked seeing this side of Link. Who knew he had it in him?

“Who do you think leaves the candied almonds for you?” Link challenged me, and I felt my mouth drop open as searched for a retort of my own. I honestly had no idea where those sugared almonds came from. My maid would bring in a little paper packet of the nuts tied with a ribbon every week or so and leave them on my desk. Usually, Link would be the one who ended up eating them since I didn't really care for sugared almonds. They made for a handy snack during field research or while traveling to the springs. Sometimes we'd feed them to the squirrels.

“Well then,” I spluttered, feeling completely confused, “he cannot love me so very well or he’d bring me something that I really enjoy, like...like a…” What did I like? Link’s blue eyes staring me down drove all rational thought from my head.

“Fruitcake.” He finished the thought.

“Well, exactly! He doesn't know me at all. Just a courtier playing at romance. But Mipha…” His face fell and all the challenge went out of him.

“Mipha is not playing at romance, and I would not hurt her for anything in this world, but I don't think I can marry her.” He sighed quietly, the worry written openly on his face.

I am worried for both of them. Scientific problems are so much easier to approach than problems of the heart. Regardless, all problems will be moot if I do not harness the sealing power and I must prepare for my evening vigil.

 

* * *

 

Later, after we had eaten an evening meal, I sat by the fire, waiting for the moon to rise. As always, Link was taking any spare time to train with the sword. I had changed into my prayer dress, and I was unbraiding my hair when a thought occurred to me.

“Did you do anything to make Mipha think that you returned her affections?” I asked. My thought was this: if there was something he was doing to encourage her, changing his behavior could change her reactions to him. He paused mid-swing, and when he turned to face me, he wore a close, guarded expression.

“Did you?” I asked again when he did not respond. He pushed the point of the sword into the ground and leaned his weight upon the pommel. The point rested between his spread feet, and in the fading evening light, Link looked every bit the noble champion. The Master Sword seemed to flicker with a subtle light. I wondered if he could hear it whispering to him. He stared at me blankly a moment before answering.

“I dunno,” he muttered, “maybe.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Not recently. Not since I left to be a knight.”

“Did you hold hands?” I held out my palm and wiggled my fingers. He grunted. “Yes?” A curt nod was his reply. “Anything else?” He gave me a dark look. I honestly never knew Link was capable of so many expressions! I’m so used to the carefully composed mien of my appointed knight. I seem to have broken through! Instead of answering, he pulled the sword up with one hand -- such strength -- and sheathed it into the scabbard on his back. He paced a bit, considering his answer, it would seem.

“Well?” I urged him to reply. I must admit, I was rather...queenly in my demeanor. I wanted an answer! He responded by dropping to one knee before me, a respectful pose to royalty but his face was sullen.

“I kissed her,” came the blunt reply. Well, I was shocked. No wonder those poor Zora girls were confused if he was going around kissing them! Poor Mipha! Poor Kodah! With my first outraged gasp, he amended the statement quickly.

“Just on the cheek!” he protested, “We were kids! I wasn’t ...wasn’t...passionate or anything. Just friendly like.” He reached out to me and took my hand, his eyes searching my face, looking for understanding that I simply could not give.

“Hmph,” I withdrew my hand, and he gave a disgusted sound.

“It wasn’t like that,” came his quiet protest. Easy for him to say.

“You really shouldn’t lead girls on like that, _Linny._ ” What a knave!

“It was just a kiss on the cheek!” His cheeks were very red now, and he slumped down to sit on the ground.  I could almost feel sorry for him.  Almost.

He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the fire. We sat in silence for a very long moment.

“Where on the cheek?” I finally asked.

He didn’t look at me, but I heard him sigh again. “Does it matter?” came the defeated response.

“I think that it does.” I answered, not that I would know. Other than my family and friends, I’ve never been kissed. The court poet kissed my hand on my birthday, but I don’t think a kiss on the back of a gloved hand is particularly passionate. I felt flushed and confused as I tried to remember what expression the poet wore when he kissed my hand. Was he ardent, his eyes flashing with love? Link looked at me, and his blue eyes roamed my face before he responded. I felt my heart beat a little faster. It wasn’t a romantic look, but it had a wildness to it I find difficult to describe, so different from anything I had seen in those eyes before. Link lifted his hand to lay one finger tip gently on the middle of my left cheek. Such a gentle, feather-light touch, but I was transfixed.

“I kissed her there, a proper spot to kiss friends and your grandmother,” he said tartly.

I found myself staring at his lips, the bottom lip pouting just the slightest bit. He does have a lovely mouth for a boy.

“What about princesses?” I asked. Of course, I was alluding to Mipha, but I am a princess too, and I hope, a friend. His blue eyes darkened.

“Them too.”

West Necluda is known for its lightning storms, but it was a clear night. Even so, there was something electric in the air when he leaned toward me to place his lips on my cheek. Soft and warm his lips lingered just a little to the right of where he indicated a proper kiss should go, barely brushing the corner of my mouth. He pulled away, his eyes wide, the pupils large. I swallowed hard.

“I don’t think that was quite the spot.” I told him in a very small voice. To be honest, I squeaked like a mouse, but I found it difficult to make any utterance at all.

“No?” he asked. He face was still so close to mine, and our mingled breaths made me feel dizzy.

“No.” I lifted a finger to gently brush the corner of his mouth, to show him where he had placed his lips. The barest hint of wiry golden fuzz tickled my finger -- he certainly does not need to shave -- but it was an intriguing, manly, texture all the same. His soft mouth was a delightful contrast to it.

“My mistake,” he said quietly. “I apologize, princess.” He looked down and away. There was such a heat in my belly, and a ringing in my ears. I could not believe he was unaffected, but perhaps he’s had a lot of experience kissing girls. Perhaps it meant nothing at all. I waited for him to say something, anything at all, but instead, after just a moment longer, he stood up. He looked out over the horizon.

“The moon is rising,” he said and turned to give me a hand as I got to my feet. I can say that I have never felt less like praying than I did at that moment, but I have long been able to suppress my desires for my duty. I walked to the spring and waded in without another word.


	4. Excerpt 4 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

 

When you have two surfaces moving against one another, like the cogs and gears that make Vah Ruta walk, friction results.  Often, it is the result of irregularities on the surface, even smaller than the eye can detect, even though the mechanical pieces have been made to work together.  Whether friction is detrimental or not can depend upon velocity, temperature or the presence of lubrication, so how our engineers cope with it varies.  The Sheikah have identified many different types of friction, and actually, it can be very useful in the case of our moving beasts and guardians -- it gives them them the traction they need to move on land, but the kinetic energy created by friction often results in thermal energy.  The heat must be alleviated in some way or else you risk having the entire machine combust.

 

During my last night of prayers at the Spring of Courage, I felt as if I were suffering from some biological form of internal friction.  With my mind wandering between thoughts of Link, and love songs, and Lady Mipha, and always,  _ always _ , my duty to the kingdom, my soul resisted the call of the divine.  Focusing on the goddess and my devotions took every ounce of my determination, and I am sorry to say that I was not very successful.  More than anything, I thought about the look in Link’s eyes right before he pressed his lips to my cheek.  Standing waist-deep in cold spring water should have alleviated any overheating, but I felt flushed, a warmth low in my belly that spread upward to my my chest and neck.  I was radiating energy, but unfortunately, it was not the goddess light or sealing power that suffused my being.  I don’t know exactly what to call it...though I suspect Urbosa would know.  So many things I would like to ask when I next see her.  

 

The night was warm, and rising above the watery, green smell of the spring was a scent of flowers and grass.  The moon was waxing, not quite full..  As I suspected, there _ were  _ Silent Princesses growing near the goddess statue, emitting a soft blue glow.  Despite my stifled prayers, my heart rejoiced at seeing them growing wild -- fresh and fragrant in the night air.  

 

What I have to relate next is difficult for me to put to paper.  To reiterate, the purpose of this research was to learn from Link, to record my observations, and hopefully glean what it takes to be a champion for my people.  I think I have learned quite a bit in the last two days , but I don’t think it is knowledge that will help me defeat Calamity Ganon.  It could come in handy AFTER this is all over, but... All I can do now is record what I have observed and...experienced.

 

When I finally gave up on my prayers, the moon had moved lower on the horizon.  Dawn would break in the next few hours, but it was in the darkest hours of the night.  Fortunately, we were safe in this sacred place -- no monsters dared approach, but Link still stood guard the entire time I prayed, his back turned respectfully, scanning the perimeter for any dangers that could lurk.

 

When he heard me slosh my way out of the water, he turned to offer me a hand, as he usually does.  The the hour was late, the moon still shone so brightly, lighting the water and casting strange shadows around us.  My dress was wet and clung to my legs, making it difficult to walk so I gathered my skirts high in one hand and stepped out using his arm for support.  How piercing his eyes were in the moonlight.  The night was warm, but I shivered when he stared at me.  I should be used to his stares by now, I know.  I feel them on my back everyday, but again, there was that wildness in his eyes that made me catch my breath.  Seeing my shiver, he blinked and the intensity was gone, replaced by concern.  

 

“You must be cold.  I’ll stir up the fire immediately,” he said, all decorum and efficiency.  “Would you like to change now?” he asked -- a redundant question.  As if I’d ever spent the rest of a prayer night in my thin, wet gown.  His solicitous demeanor belied a nervousness that I have rarely seen in Link.  He was being positively chatty over a routine we had enacted so many times before, which had never required words on either part.  

 

He handed me my pack that held my travel clothes and then busied himself with adding more wood to the smoldering fire.  Once more, he turned his back to me, this time so that I could slip out of the wet dress decently. We had gone through these very motions at this very place many times before, but I kept remembering that feral intensity in his eyes as I drew the dress over my head.  I threw it in a soggy heap at my feet, and instead of immediately slipping into my trousers, vest and jacket, I stood bare under the moonlight, letting the warm air embrace my skin. 

 

I turned my face up to the moon and held my arms out, stretching them high over my head.  For a bare, wanton instant, I was gloriously unrestrained.  Even though droplets of water were cool on my skin, between my thighs was warm and slick, and that shivery feeling that had nothing to do with the temperature came over me again.  My skin broke out in goose flesh and my nipples peaked. I stood still and naked, analyzing this peculiar sensation.  

 

I have come to know what it feels like to have Link’s eyes on me; I feel the weight of his gaze on my back most days, and at that moment, there in the moonlight, I knew that if I turned my head, I would see his fierce eyes upon me, but surely that was my imagination.  He would never dream of such impropriety, but the thought of it made me catch my breath all the same.  Feeling as though I'd quite lost my mind, I pulled on my trousers and vest and picked up my jacket.   When I turned around, I saw nothing but Link’s broad back as he hunched over a small fire that was already burning merrily.  

 

“All finished,” I said brightly and came to join him by the fire.  He lifted his chin to acknowledge my words, but he did not look at me.  I sat in silence watching him measure out dried tea leaves very precisely and add them to a small pot of boiling water.   I took the tea when he wordlessly offered the cup, and still he did not meet my eyes.   I studied him over the rim of my cup.  He wore a closed expression, more so than usual, and he stared into the fire as he sipped his own drink.  

 

If Link has a weakness, it is his heart.  He has never been the least bit rude to me until I brought up Mipha.  He's never been nervous around me, until he gave me an innocent kiss.  The young man can face mobs of vicious monsters, but the thought of hurting the maiden who loves him makes him quail.  Kissing me had made him anxious...for many reasons, I think.  

 

I’ve called it a weakness, but it is weakness I should like to emulate...to not give into my base desires and whims, to maintain control of my emotions so that I do not hurt anyone with them, to give people the benefit of the doubt.  Poor Link had been the target of my anger and my frustration before.  I should not like to make him the unwilling target of any other kind of... _ frustration _ and cause him unnecessary worry when he has so much to deal with already.  With that decision made, I scooted closer to him so that our shoulders nearly touched, and he looked at me in askance when I nudged his shoulder with my own.

 

“It's okay, you know.” I said, and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out what I was going on about.  He seemed dismayed.

 

“What is?” He asked, his voice hushed and quiet with a trace of alarm.  I am so ashamed that I was the cause of such.

 

“It's okay that you lost your temper with me,” I assured him.   

 

“I wasn’t angry with yo--?” He was momentarily confused, but I cut him off.

 

“I've certainly taken out my wrath on you enough.  Urbosa has chided me terribly for it.  I should not have pried into your relationship with Mipha.  I should not have teased you so.”  I wanted him to be certain that I had no issue with his earlier behavior.  I liked that he felt so free as to tell me what he really thought and really felt.  I liked that he had kissed me.

 

Several expressions ran across his face before it settled on relief.

 

“Thank you, Princess,” he said softly, with a sheepish smile.

 

“My name is Zelda, as you well know.”  I nudged his shoulder again, “After all, if you kiss a girl, you should at least call her by her first name.”  I meant it as a joke, but he blanched before turning red.  

 

“That was presumptuous of me,” he started to explain, “I should nev-”

 

But I cut him off by laying a finger to his lips.  His eyes went wide, and he swallowed the rest of his words.  

 

“It was just a kiss on the cheek between friends,” I said with more bravado than I felt.  I had touched him many times before, taking his arm as we walked, checking his head for cuts or bruises after a fight with a moblin.  As my index finger lingered on his lips, all the casual touches we shared with each other ran through my head, but nothing had ever felt as intimate as this moment.  

 

“Nothing more,” I reiterated, and perhaps trying to convince myself of this, I leaned forward to give him a kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth, on that place I had marked with my fingertip some hours ago.  That is, that was my intended location to place a kiss, but he turned his head toward me...in confusion? in anticipation?  I'm not sure, but the result was that I ended up kissing him full on his mouth.

 

I'd like to say that I was chagrined and pulled away as a proper princess should, especially a princess who was worried about forcing herself on her appointed night, but I did not.  His lips were full and warm, and he made the tiniest little gasp that sent a jolt of electricity through me that had absolutely nothing to do with lightning.  

 

I am a scientist at heart, and here I had found something worth exploring.  Fortunately, Link appeared to agree with me though he said nothing at all.  That first kiss was brief but the ones that followed were not.  We were alone, in the dead of night, and had all the time in the world to make a study of kissing.  His mouth fit against mine so perfectly.  Do all lips fit together so well, or are he and I, soul bound as we are, simply made to fit together? In both our grander destinies but also in this base way of tongues and teeth and lips.

 

After several kisses more, I pulled away to catch my breath.  Link watched me with a wary anticipation, his mouth open and panting slightly.  I was by no means ready for this experiment to end, but I wanted to make sure that he was a fully committed co-investigator.  I did not want him giving into me out of misplaced loyalty.  I gave a tentative smile and was elated when he grinned broadly at me, showing off his white, pointed canines.  

 

“Not exactly a kiss for friends or grannies…” I laughed softly and reached out to touch his face.  I was going to kiss that grin.

 

“Or princesses?” He asked wryly.  He grabbed the hand that touched his face and leaned into it.

 

“Nooo. I think not,” I sighed, “but just right for Zeldas.”  He chuckled and pulled me close to him.  This time when I kissed him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and his arms dropped down to encircle my waist, his hands resting on my hips, and that was very good for the soft, gentle kisses we had been exchanging up to that point.  Before long, however, we realized that prolonged kissing is so much more comfortable while lying down.   Link had already spread out our bedding for the night, and we lay back on the closest bedroll, which happened to be his.  We lay on our sides, facing each other.  He ran a hand slowly up and down my bare arm before moving to cup my jaw and bringing his mouth to mine again.  Slow and unhurried, he kissed me with parted lips.

 

Soon, we discovered that kisses on the lips are wonderful, but kisses on the ear, neck and collarbone are exquisite.  I was kissing his neck when on a whim, I put out my tongue to taste his skin, salty and hot, and I liked that very much.  So I did it again, running my tongue up to his ear, sucking the lobe into my mouth.  

 

“Oh, Zelda!”  He breathed, with such a sweet reverence.  I don't remember the song the poet sang to me very well, but my name, gasped out by my appointed knight was a sweeter song than any I had ever heard before and stirred such a feeling that was both tender and raw.  I answered him with a fierce kiss and he held me tight and rolled me onto my back so that he hovered above me.  His mouth found mine again, and his knee ended up between my legs, pressing against that soft place which once again felt slick and hot.  We were moving against each other, making a new kind of friction that I wasn't sure if the Sheikah had a label for or not.

 

My hands stroked up and down his warm muscled back as he pressed close and closer still. He had one hand on my head, fingers entwined in my hair while the other was at my waist, clutching at the hem of my vest, which rode higher and higher.  Soon his hard callused fingers were touching bare skin, and they moved upward, so close to where I ached to be touched.   He teased the skin over my ribs, accidentally tickling, until in spite of myself, I jerked reflexively and muffled a giggle against his mouth.

 

He froze and started to move away.

 

“No, don't stop…” I pleaded, holding him to me.  I did not want this to end because I could not control my stupid reflexes.

 

He was heavy eyed and dazed with a spot of color high on each cheek.  “I think we should…” he said uncertainly.  I sat up on my elbows, ready to protest, but he did not move.  Instead, he gazed at me, his face so close to mine.

 

“You are the loveliest...” he said and gave me a soft, chaste kiss on the lips, which of course, led to two or three more kisses, which became progressively deeper and wetter, and before I knew it, I had his earlobe between my teeth again, and he was shivering and pressing into me, our legs tangled, his thigh wedged firmly between mine.  His hands were restless, running over my hips and arms before he hesitantly moved a hand where I had wanted it before, kneading the soft flesh he found there.

 

I felt like we were on the cusp of a very important discovery when he stilled the motion of his hand and hips and rolled off of me gasping.

 

“We can't,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face vigorously.  

 

“We can!” I said, not sure what exactly we could do, but it seemed like there was so much more to be done.

 

“No, no…” he was resolved now. He sat up.  His hair was wild and stuck up all over his head. “You must rest.  It is almost dawn.  Tomorrow, in the light, you will understand why we must stop.”  Though the fire had long ago died to embers, I could see his face well enough to know the mask had dropped.  Where his body had moved fluidly against me before, loose and warm, now he was tense.  The lovely moment had passed.

 

I didn't see how the daylight would change a thing, and moreover, I don't think he believed it either.  He was frightened...frightened of losing control, frightened that if he lost control he would let everyone down:  me, Mipha, my father, the goddess who called him to his destiny.  It was the same fear that kept him quiet and stone faced most of the time.  I respected his fear though I did not agree.  He indulged himself with food, finding comfort and pleasure in his meals.  I did not see how kissing me was so very different from sampling a juicy fruit or a rich cake.  Link’s kisses made me feel devoured and...delicious.  

 

He sat very still for a few minutes, eyes closed, taking deep breaths… he was doing the same focused breathing he did when he practiced with the sword.  I wanted to tell him this wasn't a battle to be fought.  It was just biology...an anatomical experiment, but then, he leaned over and with a gentle hand, pushed back a lock of my hair and lay a soft kiss on my forehead.  I had no words for that.

 

He moved to the other side of the fire, out of temptation’s reach apparently, and with his back to me once again, he adopted a meditative pose.  Ironic that I had spent so much of our time together telling him to go away, and now that I wanted him so near, he refused me.

 

I lay there aching and empty and wanting until sleep finally overtook me.  


	5. Excerpt 5 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

 

Today has been a terribly busy day.  We will be hosting a feast this evening and next to honor the dedicated Sheikah researchers who have achieved so much with the ancient relics.  They deserve every honor, but I do not much look forward to the event as it means I must stand before the disappointed eyes of the court and keep my composure.   Poor Link has been one of the few who has experienced the full force of my emotions.  To most of my subjects, however, I am a cool, composed failure.   Of course, our champions have been invited though Mipha declined, having just hosted us so recently.  I look forward to seeing Urbosa, Daruk, and Revali, and of course, Link brings me comfort -- how strange to admit that so freely.  I will manage to get through this celebration.  

 

The sealing power continues to elude me.  My sojourn to the Spring of Courage did not unlock my birthright or give me any insight into how it may be revealed.  My father was sorely disappointed that I did not have better news for him, especially since we were late returning home.  He accused me of dallying in research and ignoring my duty.  

 

He was not wrong.  He just does not know the exact nature of my research.  I would rather that he did not find out.  In studying Link, I had hoped to find a way to become the hero I am meant to be.  I suspect my father intended the same when he made Link my appointed knight.  If he only knew what I have learned…

 

However, I cannot feel chagrined as I know he wants me to be.   Perhaps my sealing power remains hidden, but I am happy -- happier than I have been since before my mother died. The sun shines a little brighter for me.  My food tastes better--indeed, I don't think I've ever had anything that tasted as good as the fruitcake I found waiting on my desk this afternoon.

 

My father hears me laugh and chides me for lacking seriousness in this time of worry.  And I do worry -- I do not know if I will be able to play my part if Ganon should make a return, but I have hope despite my failure.  The guardians are  working -- they can actually be controlled now!  And I -- I have found something that lightens my soul, that feels as close to the divine as any prayer I’ve ever uttered.  Perhaps that is a blasphemy -- but how can the beautiful things I’ve experienced recently be anything but a gift from the goddess -- a gift to her chosen hero and her -- admittedly disappointing -- descendent?

 

After the fateful night at the Spring of Courage, I feared Link and I would be embarrassed and awkward around each other, but we were not...much.  In the morning light, my only regret was that he may have felt put upon by me.  The last thing he needed was yet another princess throwing herself at him.  However, he appeared to be at ease, reasoning to himself that we would be back at the castle that very night, where such interludes would be nigh impossible, and though we would be alone together the entire day, nothing improper could happen in the daytime.  This is what he told me later.  It turns out he was wrong about that.

 

He also told me, after we had some time to talk and reflect, that his refusal of me had everything to do with his concern for our duty and nothing to do with me personally.  He was quite like Mipha in that way.  She was willing to wait for him until the Calamity was defeated.  He was willing to curb any of his own desires to be the hero he was chosen to be.  And he did desire me.  By the time we returned to Hyrule Castle, I had no doubts about that.

 

With so much resting on his shoulders he does not want to reveal anything… trying to stay strong and stoic for us all.  My clumsy -- albeit accidental-- seduction made him lose his control.  I was the one who failed in her duty and tried to distract him from his.  Bad enough that I dragged him from one kingdom to another researching the ancient relics when I should have been quietly praying and allowing him even more time to train for his battle, without him risking himself against Yiga and monsters and all the other trouble that tends to follow us when we travel.  

 

I -- as usual-- am the problem.  Whether pursuing my studies or kissing my appointed knight, I know I am neglecting my duty as Hylia’s descendent, she who must just seal away the darkness...but what more can I do to prepare?  How often must I go through stale rituals that accomplish nothing?  How much better to help revitalize the old technology and see it actually come to life under my supervision.  How much better to feel myself come alive and discover a primal purpose under Link’s lips and wandering hands.

 

I know I am being selfish. 

 

Even though I thought I would never fall asleep the night of our first embrace, I slept surprisingly well.  Perhaps it was the physical stress of the hours of praying or the emotional perturbation that took its toll, but I slept long and deep. Every morning I've ever spent afield with Link, I am usually awakened by the sounds of him whistling for his horse or the clang of metal and grunts of exertion as he trains with his sword or him happily humming over a frying pan as he cooked breakfast.  He never says much, but he can be very noisy. It makes it difficult to oversleep. Either I was very tired or he had been remarkably considerate the morning after our fateful evening because I slept far longer than I intended.  The sun was already high and bright by the time I awoke.

Link didn't say much as we readied ourselves for the journey home--not unusual, but his glances were frequent and dare I say, fond.  I couldn't help smiling at him though I held my tongue.  I did not know quite what to say.  As we rode home, my thoughts turned back to the night before, and I marveled that I did not feel the least bit of shame.  I'd been terribly forward with him, but out in the open air and sunshine, it still felt like the most natural thing to have happened.  He said that in the light of day I would understand why we must not indulge, but I didn't.  I saw his golden hair and his firm mouth, and I wanted more.   
  
  


We travelled through the morning, and when the castle was only a couple of hours away, visible in the distance, we stopped in a shady grove to rest.

 

It was late summer, and though the sun was hot, the breeze was cool.  I was worried about a great many things, not the least being my father’s disappointed face when I returned with nothing but a river snail and some flower seeds.  However, the day was beautiful and Link was near...and we were alone.  He had led the horses to drink from a nearby stream, and I watched him as he walked back toward me.  I had spent many months in his presence, and if anyone had asked, I could have recalled easily the color of his eyes, the texture of his hair, and the shape of his callused hands.  I observed these things as I would see any fact to be recorded as data.  I had noted his physical prowess before now, appreciating the strength and flexibility he exhibited and was glad he would be by my side in the final battle.  He was a fine warrior, truly a master with the sword.  For the first time, however, I noted, consciously, that he was an extremely attractive young man.  Oh, I knew other women found him handsome.  Mipha loved him, of course, and Urbosa joked about the Gerudo women swooning when he came near, but I -- myself -- for the first time realized how utterly splendid he is as a male specimen.  

 

Sitting on the soft grass, I let my eyes rove over his broad chest, down to his tapered waist, admiring the strong muscles in his thighs before letting my gaze rest ever so briefly on the mysterious region between them.  I’d felt him last night, full and warm, against my thigh.  I wondered how he would look there in the daylight.

 

Despite my lack of experience, I am not completely naive.  I know how children come to be -- well, at least, Hylian children.  I’m still not sure how Zora...or Rito, for that matter...manage it, but it cannot be so very different...except for the hatching...but that is neither here nor there.  What surprised me was that there would be such... _ feeling. _ ..associated with it.  Princesses know their duty is to bear heirs for the kingdom.  Having children...doing the things that could make children...it just always seemed to be one more tiresome obligation put upon the princess of Hyrule...like training at the springs...or holding court.  Who knew aspects of such a function could be so thrilling?  

 

I must have let my eyes linger too long, for Link cleared his throat.  When I looked up, he was looking at the ground, a pink tinge on his cheeks.  I had been caught looking, but he did not seem displeased.  

 

“Oh! I see you are back...with food!”  I stammered.  He held an armful of apples, freshly picked, which he lay on a clean cloth on the ground.  He chose one to polish on the sleeve of his shirt and offered it to me.  I thanked him and we sat for a while in silence, looking anywhere except at each other.  Finally, the quiet became too much for me.  I’ve never been one to hold my tongue for very long, anyway.  

  
  


“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked Link.  He had just taken an enormous bite out of an apple, so he just looked at me thoughtfully as he chewed.  Stalling for time, likely.

 

“It's okay.  You don't have to say anything.” I told him.  “When we are home, I'll be perfectly appropriate and will not conspire to snog you in dark corners.  You needn't worry about being compromised.”  I looked down at my folded hands in my lap, my own apple forgotten for the moment.

 

He knit his brows as he finished chewing, slowly shaking his head.  He seemed confused.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said.  He took another speculative bite of apple, his eyes on me.  I waited for him to continue.  With Link, you have to be willing to wait because it can take awhile before he gets around to telling you what he is thinking.   

 

“You did not take advantage of me,” he said, with a disbelieving smile, which quite put my mind at rest.  I was afraid that, as with Mipha, he was afraid of hurting my feelings, but that unlike Mipha, I was far too bold and frankly, had a political power over him that she did not.

 

“I liked it...too much,” he admitted, and wasn’t that such a relief to hear!  He sighed heavily, “but I don’t want to be the cause of your shame or be a distraction to your training.”  His eyes locked on the castle rising in the distance, reminding us of our responsibilities to the kingdom.

 

“You could never shame me,” I told him firmly, and he turned to look at me again.  “but I agree with you regarding this thing between us being a...a diversion...from our sacred duties.”  He nodded in agreement -- so solemn he looked.  How noble he was!  How lovely with the sunlight in his hair. 

 

“Once we are back at the castle, we must show forbearance against any such interferences.”  I paused and took a deep breath.  I screwed up my courage and continued, “However, we have a little time before we must return home.  In this time remaining to us before we return to play our appointed roles, I should very much like to kiss you again. That is…if you would like to.”  

 

He stared at me, nonplussed, and my heart started to thump. I was so afraid I had overstepped myself again, but I did not want to lose my chance to explore this matter further.  My thudding heart sped up even faster when he tossed his  half-eaten apple to the side and crawled toward me, a wicked grin growing on his face.

 

I hesitate to describe all that occurred, but it was an illuminating afternoon...and evening.  As a matter of fact, we did not return to the castle until very late at night, and then only because Link feared we would run into Bokoblins if we made camp in such an open place.  

 

Our first kisses were shy and gentle, but we soon lost our hesitation.  By mutual agreement, we had very few hours left to explore this thing between us, and I did not intend to waste a second of it.  The day was warm, the grass was soft beneath us, and his mouth, still sweet from his apple, was hungry on mine.  

 

My hands wandered beneath his tunic, feeling the warm skin covering the hard planes of his back and shoulders.  He was a magnificent contradiction of steel and smooth skin, and my curiosity got the better of me, which is why I pulled away from his sweet lips and asked him to take off his shirt.  

 

He was flustered.  He protested at first, but after I reasoned that I had seen him many times without it already, he complied, shrugging off first his blue tunic and then the linen shirt he wore beneath.  He smiled, almost bashful, but he held my gaze.  I could see his pulse beating hard and fast in his neck and he reached up to scratch the back of his head, one of his few nervous tics.  His nervous bravado engendered a tenderness within me, and I decided to take charge.  

 

“Lie down.” I commanded.  I had a scientific curiosity, and I wanted to look my fill.  He acquiesced with no complaint. At first, I just looked, admiring the neat ridge of his collar bones, and the small hillocks of his abdomen muscles.  I smoothed a hand over a pectoral muscle and felt the small, flat nipple on my palm.  I looked at him to make sure that he was still a willingly participant in this exploration.  He smiled again, showing his teeth, and that wild look was back in his eye.  He picked up my hand and kissed it before placing it on his chest once more, wordlessly urging me to continue.  Feeling bolder, I ran a finger down the middle of his abdomen and eventually came to the line that had so captivated me some days before, where his stomach muscles met his hip. I traced it until it disappeared beneath the band of his trousers.  I was not quite bold enough to follow it to its conclusion, at least not yet.  His breathing was becoming labored and his eyes were dazed.  On instinct, I bent to kiss his sharp, jutting hipbone, briefly considering letting my tongue trace that compelling line, but he let out a strangled gasp which stopped me in my tracks.  

 

I looked up startled, afraid I had hurt him in some way -- but how?  It was a featherlight touch, but perhaps I had touched a barely healed bruise or-- but I did not have time to continue this line of thought because he was reaching for me, pulling me over on top of him, searching for my mouth, and I found myself straddling his hips and kissing him once more.

 

I was put in the mind of my horseback riding lessons.  I may never be a great horsewoman, but I think I now know something of the art of using my thighs and hips to communicate where I want to go.  I rocked against him, squeezing him with my thighs -- tentative at first, but then with growing confidence when he followed my motions.  Soon we had a fluid rhythm and it was glorious.  I was still not completely certain where this lovely rolling gait was taking us, but I was eager to reach the destination.  

 

Rising above him, flushed and pleased with myself, I saw him throw back his head and take a gulp of air.  He grabbed my hips desperately, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my backside, and I remembered his words of wisdom from our earlier lessons.  I must soothe my mount.  It was the only way to let him know how I really felt.  Still straddling his hips, I bent to kiss his flushed face and lips, running my hand through his hair.  It was an experiment, but he was more than a mount, more than a specimen to be pinned and examined.  So much more.  I wanted him to know that.

 

“Link...Link…” I whispered into his hear, my voice oddly husky in my own hears.  A beautiful warmth was blooming low, and I kissed him harder.  It was almost too much.  The friction and heat between us was building, and I felt constrained by my tight quilted jacket.  I sat up again, still straddling him and wrestled with my jacket.  Link stilled beneath me, eyes round and amazed.  Once that was off, it seemed best that my undervest should follow as well.  The air caressed my bare skin as did the wondering, wandering hands of my appointed knight.  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and whispered in a rough voice, “You truly are a descendent of the goddess.”  He licked his lips.  “You were ethereal in the moonlight, and you are sublime in the sun,” he breathed the words out, hardly giving them voice, but I heard them, felt them resonate deep within me.  I remember them so clearly even now, a better refrain than even the court poet has been able to compose.

 

My response left my lips before I even had time to consider what I was saying, almost as if someone else were speaking, but as soon as I uttered the words, I knew them to be true.  I placed my palms flat on his chest, and bent down.

 

“And you are my hero, across land and across time, you are mine,” I told him, my voice again strange in my ears.  He moved his hands from my hips to my back pulling me flush to him, and the glory of warm bare skin on skin was breathtaking.  I could not say how long we spent in this embrace, but soon his strong hands found the softest parts of me, and my soft hands found the parts of him that were firm and solid.  The warmth I’d felt bloom before grew into a explosion of pure light that started deep in my very core and radiated through my legs and arms and breast.  It was the closest thing to magic I have ever felt.  Is it heretical to say so?  Perhaps, but rather than be a distraction from my destiny, some primal part of me feels like this very thing is what I am made for --  for light and life and...love.

 

Love? What do I know of love?  Very little.  As I’ve said before, what use is love to a princess?  Duty comes before all sentiment.  Even as a child, when my mother died, I knew this.  My heart was torn apart when she died, but I remained strong for my father and my kingdom.  My composure during that dark and terrible time is the one thing my father praises me for to this very day.  Link himself locks away his emotions to keep up appearances and reassure our subjects that all is well, that they have a hero they can count upon even if their princess is a failure.  

 

Being together, as we have been these last few days, has tested our resolve and fortitude.  A few hours of magic, snatched in a shady grove before returning home has not been enough.  

  
  


****

 

Urbosa knows.  She always knew, even before I did.  I greeted our champions formally when they arrived, my father at my side, and Link standing strong and silent behind me.  I managed to greet Revali with the respect he requires and Daruk with the pomp he adores.  Urbosa, though...I faltered somewhat under her direct stare.  She threw a glance behind me where my appointed knight stood at attention and threw her head back to laugh.  Luckily, Urbosa laughs a great deal, so we did not draw too much attention.

 

“Well, well, well, Princess!  Progress at last!” she exclaimed, causing Daruk to look up hopefully where he stood nearby with Impa.  She was showing him the Guardians, glowing and alert.  They were an impressive sight.  Thankfully, Impa touched the Goron champion’s arm to bring his attention back to the ancient wonder and continued her explanation.  She caught my eye for the briefest of moments, and I made a mental note to thank her later...somehow.  

 

“I’m certain I have no idea what you mean,” I hissed in a low voice. I did not dare look back at Link, but I had faith that he had on the blankest of blank looks. He was a master at those.

 

“Oh, I’m certain you do, clever vai” Urbosa laughed again, “ but I will concede that this is neither the time nor the place.”  She winked...always with the winking!  But she allowed herself to be led away by the castle servants to her quarters.  

 

The feasting was a trial.  If Urbosa knew, who else could tell?  We had been discreet.  Nothing more untoward than a few stolen and very chaste kisses had occurred between us since our return to Hyrule castle, and those happened in my private quarters with the door locked...and in my research study...but that was up so high.  I was certain no one had seen anything.  Link’s stoic mask was so firmly in place, he was almost robotic around others.  Maybe he was too withdrawn?  Or maybe I gave it away with an unchecked glance?   It was maddening not knowing what I may be revealing.

 

My father has reacted to me no different than usual, so that is a relief.  Daruk and Revali, other than asking hopefully whether I had any developments regarding my power, were much the same as they have always been.  I am inordinately grateful that Mipha did not attend.  With her gentle empathy, she would see right through me, I fear.  And did Impa give me knowing glances at the table, Link standing guard behind me?  She is very, very clever, and not just about technology.  Her sharp eyes see every detail...oh dear.  Perhaps we have not been as discreet as I thought?

 

After dinner were speeches and entertainment by tumblers and singers and of course, the court poet.  He had such mournful brown eyes -- he looked quite like a Hylian retriever -- and he sung a very long and mournful song about unrequited love until Urbosa interrupted and demanded that he sing a bawdy little tune called “When the Vai Met her Voe,” and somehow that was even worse than the tragic melody.

 

I escaped as soon as I possibly make a polite exit, and of course, Link had to follow me out.  For the first time in a long time, I wanted to tell him to stop following me, but that would have been even more suspicious, wouldn’t it?  He followed me to my chambers, always a few respectful steps behind.  I bid him a very formal goodnight and hoped he would understand why I was not inviting him in for a kiss.  The wooden nod I received in response was a relief.  He understood.  I wanted to kiss that impassive face, to see him melt into the beautifully expressive young man I know he could be, but now was certainly not the time.  

  
Once inside, I collapsed upon my bed only to find that someone...oh who indeed...had left me a new book,  _ Your Voe and You _ .  The text has proven to have some valuable information, but I shall NOT be thanking Urbosa for the gift.


	6. Excerpt 6 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urbosa gives some advice.

  
  


For so long, I have not allowed myself to feel anything.  I have been desperate to feel some kind of spiritual awakening inside, some sign that the holy power was manifesting within me, but there has been only silence.

 

When my mother died, the seriousness of my position was made clear.  Though I was but a child, I was the only hope for a kingdom laboring under the dire prophecy that the return of Calamity Ganon was at hand.  I had to retain my composure even though I was terrified.  I learned to suppress my emotions from this young age, and for a time, I made my father and my people proud with my solemn dedication to prayer.

 

Ten years passed, and with no great revelation at hand, I thought...or rather I hoped, most desperately...that perhaps the omens were wrong.  Then Link, rising above so many other young would-be heroes -- like poor Revali, that indignant bird -- pulled the sword that seals the darkness from its resting place, proving him to be the Hero above all heroes,  and proving that I was the princess destined to stand against the blood-dimmed tide that will be loosed upon our world when Ganon returns.  Even though I continue the prescribed rituals in the hopes of unlocking my power, I lack all conviction.  

 

That is, I lack conviction in my prayers, but in my research, both with the relics and Link, I find a new revelation, something akin to magic and hope.  For the first time, in maybe ever, I  _ feel _ something kindled deep within.  I don’t remember very well how my mother described the magic -- I was only six years old when she died.  I know my grandmother heard voices, and mother said I would know when it was my turn to live up to my destiny.  This heat and light that sparks when I am with him, could it be akin to the power?  Or am I merely deluding myself?  

  
  


The first night of our return from the Spring of Courage, he had escorted me to my rooms, as usual.  Normally, I would have thanked him and closed the door behind me, but that night, I could not dismiss him so easily.  I was wounded from the tongue lashing my father had given me upon our return, and sympathy lurked in Link’s eyes.  Also, I do confess it, I was not quite ready to put this new thing behind us.

 

I laid my hand on his arm, his leather bracer smooth beneath my fingers, and pulled him inside my room, closing the door behind us.  He looked startled, but there was something about the set of his shoulders and the slight pout of his lower lip that told me he was not upset by my boldness.  No, he lingered close even when he had the opportunity to step away.

 

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I told him.  He waited patiently for me to continue -- so intense was his gaze!  “I simply wanted to thank you. ” 

 

At this, he looked confused.  Poor Link.  Confused by my anger, confused by my kindness.  Would I ever cease to be a trial to him?

 

“Reporting yet another failure to my father was difficult for me.” Again he nodded.  “Thank you for being there for me,” I finished, rather lamely.  I did not really need to thank him for standing guard.  That was his job after all, but I could think of no other excuse to do what I did next.

 

He was shaking his head.  “I didn’t do anyth--”

 

I stepped forward and lay my hands on his shoulders.  We are of a height, he is not so very tall, so I had to merely lean forward to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. It was the kind of kiss that started this thing between us, tentative and gentle.  Foolishly, I suppose I thought it might be the end of this.  A nice closure after falling astray.  

 

He closed his eyes, and his arms came up to hold me lightly, so lightly, he hardly touched me at all.  He leaned in and brushed my nose with his own, and he sighed, a small sound that caught in this throat.  After the passionate intensity of the previous day, I could not have believed that such a small gesture, such a gentle touch could provoke such a surge of feeling, but it did.  It was thrilling.  It was terrifying.  I had believed that I was in control of the experiment.  That only certain touches and caresses naturally led to a certain result, but I was wrong.  He had barely touched me, and already I was aching in a way that an hour of his kisses took to produce before.  How was I to live with him as my escort when the barest brush of skin produced this reaction?  I had thought if we kept our clothes on and our lips to ourselves we would be fine.

 

I pulled away, too abruptly, and attempted to smile at him, to let him know it was okay, that he had done no wrong.  I rushed him out of my room as quickly as possible, and I spent the rest of the night in a state of agitation, afraid that I had hurt his feelings, afraid of the potency of my own yearning.  Why should this simple intimacy bring such a surge of intense feeling and my prayers and training leave me so utterly cold?  It makes no sense.

 

We returned to something akin to normal, except that my heartbeat was rapid when I first saw him each morning when he met me at my door.  Except that every nerve from my fingertips to my toes pricked when he drew near.  Except that when he followed behind me, my dutiful knight, I was aware of every movement I made, wondering if his eyes followed me the way mine wanted to follow him, wondering if he wanted to touch my skin as badly I wanted to feel his against mine.

 

I got my answer days later in my study, not with words -- words still do not come easily to Link, not even when he is with me -- but with his actions.  

 

He was carrying stacks of books and supplies into my study, and though it was not a job for an appointed knight -- there are servants in the castle for that purpose -- I also knew that there was no one else who would have such care with my flasks and other delicate instruments.  Link takes my work seriously.

 

He was lifting a heavier box, filled with guardian parts - screws and gears mostly, and the muscles in his forearms flexed in a most attractive manner.  I remembered most vividly those arms holding me when the first stars were coming out in the sky, as I lay with my head on his shoulder, boneless and heavy from the bright pulse his touch had ignited within me.  His rough hands had stroked over my bare shoulder and arm, pulling me in close.

 

“You’re trembling,” he had whispered against my temple, his breath sweet on my skin.  “Are you okay?”

 

Recalling that evening, I suddenly was not okay at all.  Feeling a rush of vertigo, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles went white.  Strange what urgent biological effects a mere memory can invoke!  There was a clank of metal, and I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.  Link had dropped the box on the table and was giving me a concerned look.  

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting a hand to my face.  I smiled at his unconscious echo of my memory.   His rough, callused touch was the ill and the cure at that moment.  

 

“I think so,” I told him, looking up into his concerned eyes, “I just -- I just remembered something, is all.”  I felt my cheeks flush as his eyes searched my face, puzzled.  I knew I should move away from him, get back to the business of sorting my supplies and cleaning up my lab, but I did not want to.  I gave in to my impulse and leaned into his palm, closing my eyes again to better enjoy the feeling of his skin on mine.  His fingers twitched against my cheek.

 

I heard a soft hitch in his breath, and the hand that cupped my cheek moved down to capture my chin, tilting my face.  There was a warm puff of air on my lips, and I felt my breath taken away as he breathed in and out, his mouth so close to mine.  I waited, my eyes still closed, until I finally felt the soft pressure of his lips on mine.  As before, the electric jolt this created within me seemed far too powerful for such a chaste caress.    Sighing, I opened my mouth beneath his, and he responded to the invitation, kissing me with a passionate abandon that belied his typical emotionless facade.  My arms were around his neck, and his hands were at my hips, pressing against me in a most delightful way until I was backed against my desk, my rear resting on the edge.  I wanted nothing more than to wrap my legs around him and feel that beautiful rhythm we had discovered before, but just as I decided to relinquish myself to this blissful feeling, a flask rolled off of the table and shattered.  

 

I will not detail the embarrassed fumbling and apologies that we uttered to one another.  Suffice to say, after we had composed ourselves once more, he went off to fetch a chambermaid to clean up the glass, and I tried to persuade myself that I could no longer allow myself to be swayed by base impulses. 

 

But I am not convinced.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


Urbosa sought me out on the final day of her visit.  I had been up before dawn, as usual, to perform my daily meditations and to pray -- hoping as always that today might be the day that something happened -- but it did not.  The only thing I felt was a deep sense of the unfairness of it all.  There I knelt on cold stone before the goddess statue, and all was gray in the early light.  All but him, Link.  He stood nearby, as usual, warning anyone away from disturbing me at my prayers.  He was the one bright spot, his blue tunic and his shining sword.  In the chill morning, I imagined I could smell him, could feel the heat of him -- so close but never close enough.  My words flew up to the goddess, but my thoughts stayed below, far below, remembering what lay beneath that tunic. Determined to focus my mind on the sacred, I forced myself to stay kneeling far longer than usual in a meditative stance.  The sun was fully up before I finally allowed myself to rise and be escorted back to the castle.  Even in the quiet, lonely stillness of the morning, Link stayed silent and all too proper, walking several steps behind.  We had guests, and we had made a promise to each other to not distract each other from our duties.  And, oh, he was dutiful -- much to my relief and my regret.

 

I returned to my chambers, cold, frustrated, and weary.  I had stayed up far too late the night before reading through the book left on my bed.  It was a kind of training manual for young Gerudo seeking their fortune in love and other matters.  Honestly, much of the text was written for women who had never actually seen a man.  I may not know all the details of the male sex, but I have actually spoken to men before.  And kissed one.  Some of the later chapters, dealing with what comes after one finds a soulmate, were far more enlightening.  Who knew when such knowledge could come in handy?  Better to be prepared, really.

 

I was lolling on my bed, quite seriously debating whether or not I should just go back to sleep, when there was a soft knock on my door.

 

“Princess?”  Link’s voice was muted on the other side of the thick, wooden door.  I sat up quickly, running my hands through my hair, and bade him enter.  Was he coming to talk to me after all?

 

The door opened and Link stepped in.

 

“The Lady Urbosa wishes to speak with you, Princess.” He announced formally.  I searched his face, trying to find some spark of, well, anything, but his gaze was as flat as could be, which was for the best, since the same could not be said of Urbosa who stood behind him grinning at me.  

 

“Good morning, Princess!”  her voice rang out, and even though I was cold and tired and confused, I brightened at her greeting.  Link moved aside to allow her entry, and I went to embrace her.  She hugged me tightly and laughed.

 

“I have scarcely had a chance to speak with you, and I depart tomorrow,” she smiled down at me.  “I have set aside some time this morning, and I do hope you will grace me with your presence.”  

 

I smiled, a real smile -- despite the teasing, her wise counsel has brought me much comfort over the years, and with my own mother gone, I cherish her all the more for it.

 

“Of course I have time for you,” I told her, and gave her another tight hug to show her I meant it.  “Did you wish to join me for a morning meal in my chambers or…”

 

“That will do for now,” she grinned again, mischief in her eyes, “but you, Boy…”  Link froze on his way out the door and turned to face her, “don’t go far...not that you would anyway.  I’d like a chance to speak with you as well.”  

 

Link paled and I saw his throat work as if he were swallowing hard, but he nodded politely, and closed the door as he left.  I was sure he was standing at attention outside, nervously running through all the potential topics of conversation Urbosa may have for him.   I know I was.

 

Urbosa took pity on me at first, making small talk over fruit and porridge, but she had come to my chambers with a purpose.  In a lull in the chat, she reached across the small table to pat my hand. 

 

“So, the Spring of Courage did not awaken anything?” she asked.  I winced at the question that I am asked all too often.  I wanted to confess, to tell her that  _ something _ was awakened within me at the spring, just not the power to save my kingdom.  I did not answer her.  It was a rhetorical question anyway.  If I had unlocked the holy power, I would have been atop the highest tower in Hyrule, declaring it to the entire kingdom.

 

“It’s no matter,” she said.  “There is time yet.”  I nodded, miserable but grateful for the kind reassurance.  Unfortunately, I feel certain that what time there is grows short.  She allowed me my silence for a moment, regarding me with such a tender gaze that I felt even worse.  It is difficult to remain composed when my father chides me for my lack of success, but having Urbosa’s sympathy was even worse.  I wanted to throw myself into her arms and sob like a child, but I did not.  I looked out the window, toward my study and thought about my Silent Princess seedling.  It had sprouted from one of the seeds I brought back from the spring.  I thought about the new combination of soil I wanted to use when I transferred it to a larger pot.  Should I increase the amount of peat, I wondered.  I was able to regain control with these thoughts, a control I lost completely with Urbosa’s next statement.

 

“I want you know that I am so very proud of you,” Urbosa said, touching my hand to regain my attention.   My eyes were welling up before she could even finish her thought. 

 

“There now! None of that,” she laughed and tossed me a linen napkin to dry my eyes.  “I just wanted you to know that all of us...all of the champions...we see how hard you are trying.”

 

I gulped and took a shaky breath.  I wanted to believe that, so very much, but I cannot.  Am I trying hard enough?  I know my father does not think so.  How could anyone else believe it? I did NOT wish to cry, but her kindness hurt me so.

 

“I believe in you, Princess.” she said simply, her face solemn.  She waited a moment, watching me dab at my eyes.    

 

“Link does too…” she continued, oh so sly, “though I suspect he has already told you that, no?”

 

Bless her.  She knew exactly what to say to dry up my tears rapidly.  

 

“What -- Whatever do you mean?” I asked, drawing myself up stiff and proper.  My nose was running, and I’m sure it was red, but I tried to summon as much dignity as possible.

 

“I mean that you two are getting along now, aren’t you?”  She grinned at me.  “It’s about time!  I’m glad to see he finally understands what an honor it is to serve you as an appointed knight.”

 

I frowned at her.  “Link has always been most dutiful, even when I -- well, when I was -- difficult.  I have never had any uncertainty that he takes his role most seriously.”  I don’t know how she could have doubted him.  Of the two of us, Link has never been the one to worry about.

 

She tossed her head, making her earrings clank. “Oh my dear, you’ve got it bad.”

 

“I do not!  I mean -- got what?” I said indignantly.  I did not need anyone judging me for yet another shortcoming.  It was my...our...experiment.  I did not need any more of my research mocked.  I felt bad enough for wasting time with such pursuits as it was.  After the comfort she had given to me, how could she be so cruel?

 

“Calm down!” she laughed, holding her hands up defensively.  I noticed I was clenching my fists in my lap, and I forced myself to take a deep breath and hear her out.  

 

“It’s okay, you know,” she said more seriously, “to have feelings for a young man, especially for that particular young man.  Link is one of the few, if not the only one, to know what you are going through.”  She sighed.  “He never says, not to anyone, but I don’t imagine it has been easy for him either.” 

 

I did not reply right away.  She was being frightfully bold with me, and I did not want to honor such impertinence.  But it was Urbosa.  How could I not trust her?

 

“He is.” I finally answered.  “We have talked a good deal.  I shall not reveal his confidences, but I have found that we... he has become a...friend and something of a confidant.”  There that was true enough, I thought.

 

“Is that all he is?”  she asked.  He green eyes gleamed with mischief and I began to regret even letting her into my chambers. 

 

“What more could he be?” I asked.  What more, indeed?  It was something I asked myself regularly when I tossed and turned at night, a pain in my heart and a burning ache between my legs.  How could he possibly be more to me than he already was to me?  

 

“Oh, he could be more than that, I suppose...one day…” Urbosa mused.

 

I pondered this for just an instant, running through the scenarios where he could be more.  More than a knight.  More than a friend.  More than a... _ lover _ ?  Is that really the word for someone I spent a few hours kissing and caressing? It seemed absurd to consider these things when I cannot even be certain of the sun rising the next day if Calamity Ganon returns before I unlock the sealing power.

 

“But that’s not important for now,” Urbosa  interrupted my thoughts.  “Just know that stealing a kiss from a handsome young knight will not prevent you from finding your destiny,” she smiled and laughed again.  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  We Gerudo train hard and work hard.  You know this to be true.”

 

I nodded.  I have long admired the Gerudo work ethic.

 

“However…” she fixed me with a look, “we make time for play and for love.  It is part of every Gerudo’s education.  You have the text I gave you.   Striking out to find your soulmate is an honorable quest for any vai to undertake.  You have been nothing but faithful in your spiritual training, and your dedication to the work with the ancient artifacts has inspired us all.”

 

Except for my father, I thought ruefully. 

 

“Maybe, though,  there can be time for a little romance, a little fun.”  She smiled and reached out to stroke my hair, so gently.  “It may even help in the long run.”

 

Such a dawning hope when she said those words.  To be given permission, even if indirectly, to continue my research with Link…

 

“You think some good could come of us --?” I did not know how to finish the question.

 

“You both have the weight of the world on your shoulders.  That poor boy guarding your door is wound so tight, he’s about to snap, more so than usual.  If he breaks, we’ll be in quite a fix when Ganon returns,”  She teased, but she had a point.  Since we had returned to the castle, Link had been far more reticent than before, shuttered up against the world.  Other than the two moments when we slipped in our resolve, he had not been very communicative even with me.  And in those moments, we were far too focused on other things than talking.  It hurt to go back to the restraint of before.  I missed hearing him speak freely about the things he liked to eat.  About his father and mother and how he did not want to fail them.  About his fears and his hopes.  I missed  _ him _ .

 

“What in the world  _ have _ you done to that boy?” Urbosa was blunt, and she laughed at my red face and my mouth gaping like a trout.  

 

What could I tell her that she had not already surmised?  There had been the night by the spring, and the afternoon in the field.  One chaste kiss in my chambers. One not so chaste kiss in my research study.  That’s it.  We promised each other that nothing else could occur.  The experiment was too dangerous to continue.  In fact, the very fate of the kingdom could be at risk if I am further distracted from my prayers. 

 

However, if Urbosa thinks otherwise, could there be any harm in continuing the study?


	7. Excerpt 7 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

Link dedicates any spare hour to his martial training.  He is most proficient with the Master sword, and he far outshines any other knight in our guard, or in all of Hyrule, for that matter.  I have seen him best two Lynels at once.  His talent as a warrior cannot be disputed, and he shows an unswerving dedication to his role as both appointed knight and as he who will seal the darkness.

 

More than this, however, he is diplomatic and kind.  For such a reserved young man, he brings our people together, so subtly that they almost do not realize they have been quietly manipulated into getting along for the greater good.  When the bladesmith in Castletown was in a quarrel with his apprentices, the royal guard suffered.  Their weapons were not being repaired or replaced quickly enough.  Link did not suffer during this time, for the sword that seals the darkness was forged by the goddess herself.  No smithy would be needed to repair that sacred blade.  However, Link worked to settle the quarrel and ensured his brothers in arms would have their weapons needed to protect the realm.  

 

He is a natural leader, with the talent of kings.  Better than some kings I have known.  I do not seek to denigrate my father, yet Link, without a single drop of royal blood, proves himself worthy again and again.

 

Link is kind.  When the opportunity arises, he plays tag with the village children, and when the game is done, he will answer their questions about being a knight and swashbuckle a bit to their delight.  Link never fails to share an apple or two with the little ones either.  He carries heavy loads for the elders of the town and respectfully listens to their prattling stories of their younger days.  Link always has time to scratch a dog behind the ears or a carrot to spare for both the royal mounts and the old nags carting their wares about the land.  

 

His is a compassionate soul.

 

Link hides his emotions well, as a good leader should, but I have been watching and I flatter myself that I can read him when few others can.  When he is angry, he draws in his eyebrows and his mouth becomes a set line.  When he is happy, the brows lift and his eyes light up.  His laugh is warm and unexpected.  When he is watchful or concerned, he is a perfect blank, as still and smooth as the marble face of the statues I kneel before during my daily rituals.  

 

Despite his reserve, he makes the people love him.  It’s not just Mipha who has fallen in love with him.  The champions all respect him, even Revali, whose envy I understand all too well, begrudgingly respects Link’s hard work and dedication -- though I’m sure Link has no idea of that.  The soldiers of the garrison, the people of Castle Town, my own father...they trust him.  They love him.  The hero of Hyrule.  The one who shall save us all...if only Princess Zelda were not a fraud who cannot do her part. 

 

I have tried to learn from him, to capture this essence of the champion, to distill it into some metaphorical elixir that will make me the heroine I am destined to be.  How though?  How do I capture a thing which cannot be touched or smelled or measured or bought?  I feel no magic at all, nothing...except when he pulls me close and I feel his heart beating in time with mine.  I have no inkling of what the holy power could be until he brushes my lips with his, and I feel that I could defeat a thousand Calamities if I could only stay with him like this forever. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

I had made my decision.  I was going to tell him that this ridiculous promise we made ourselves was unnecessary.  I intended to take Urbosa’s words to heart and explore this matter between Link and me.  

 

But my father...Heir to nothing, nothing but failure.   For my own foolish pleasure, I would sacrifice the kingdom.  It is a weakness I’ve fought to tamp down since I was a child. Whether with ancient artifacts or with my appointed knight, I have wasted too much time.

 

I shall pay heed to his words.  I have no other choice.  

 

* * *

 

The Spring of Power yielded nothing.  The goddess remained silent, and I remain powerless to stop the impending doom.  I live in terror of that day.  I have but one last hope: Mt. Lanayru.  If I should fail at the Spring of Wisdom as well, I am utterly without direction.

 

And yet... Link remains the one bright spot in my otherwise bleak existence

 

At the spring, I cursed the goddess and wept, exhausted and terrified.  All my training has been for nothing.  

 

But he was there for me.  As he always is.  A constant comfort and encouragement.

 

I wept, and he waded into the water to draw me away from the ritual.  He held me in his arms and shushed me, making the same soothing noises he does when his horse is startled.  I cried in his arms, wishing he would just let me drop, let the waters of the spring close over my head. Perhaps such a sacrifice would please the goddess, for nothing else I have ever given has made a difference.   _ What is the matter with me? _ I repeated between my sobs. 

 

_ Nothing is the matter with you.  Nothing at all _ , he whispered into my hair.  I buried my face into his neck and let my tears fall, wetting the neck of his shirt.  He stroked my back slowly, up and down.  The thin material of my gown caught on his callused fingers and snagged.  

 

I had no words.  In my agony, all the words I usually have for my self-doubt and despair fled.  I was like an animal, whimpering and trying nestle closer to the comfort he gave. Standing waist deep in the cold water, he held me, never a tremor or a pained expression giving away his discomfort, though I know he must have been miserably cold.  He stayed with me until my tempest of tears had passed.

 

At some point I shivered, and he gently chafed my bare arms and held me at a short distance so he could look me in the eye.

 

“Come ashore” Link commanded in his soldier’s voice.  In my weakness, I could do nothing but obey when he took my hand and led me to the fire he kept kindled.   Should I have continued the ritual?  Should I have knelt in the waters and prayed until dawn?  Would I have my divine right as the heir to the goddess even now if I had submitted myself once more?

 

Perhaps... but I don’t think so.

 

Both of us were soaking wet and chilled to the bone.  He was shivering violently, teeth chattering.  It only made sense to remove the wet layers and sit close, wrapped in spare cloaks and horse blankets until we were dry.  My weeping had left me with a stuffy head and an aching heart, but his warm arm snaking around me and pulling me close did much to ease my discomfort. 

 

I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed deeply.  The best laid plans of following my duty, giving my all to the ritual...all for nothing.  Link pressed a kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arm around me.  I could smell him, warm skin, wet leather, and the faint horsey smell of the blanket he had draped around himself.  The shiver that ran up my spine had little to do with the cold.  I tried to steel myself against baser feelings, but I could not help wondering if he was as stirred.  He spoke then, disturbing my thoughts and the stillness of the night, his voice still surprising after all this time.

 

“I cannot hear the voice in the sword,” he confessed, and the warm glow in my belly quickly turned cold.  What did he mean? The sword chose him.  He was the Master of the Sword that Seals the Darkness.  I lifted my head to stare at him, waiting for him to explain himself.  We needed at least one of us to be the hero our kingdom needed.

 

“I can feel the sword,” he spoke slowly, “I know when it’s...well, when it is  _ happy, _ I guess.”  I glanced at the sword, lying within reach in its scabbard.  As always, in the moonlight, it gave off a faint glow. “But it doesn’t talk to me, not in words,” he looked down at me, his eyes dark by the firelight, “not like the legends say.”

 

I had thrown the accusation at him months ago, asking him if he could hear the voice in the sword, taunting him because of my own inadequacy.  He had not answered me at the the time, remaining respectfully silent, because honestly, I was not really expecting a response from him, but to know that he did not hear the voice...how cruel I had been.

 

“The sword is mine,” he said softly, interrupting my thoughts and dipping his head to look me straight in the eyes, “but the power does not come to me the way the stories told.  I  _ feel  _ it...I know it’s mine, but it was not like I expected.”  

 

He reached out to touch my cheek, his fingers were icy on my skin, but very welcome all the same.  He did not say anything else, and for a while, I did not trust myself to speak.  He moved his hand from my face to my waist, so that I was encircled in his reassuring arms.  He held me while I pondered his words.

 

“You must have been talking to Urbosa,” I finally said, my voice still thick from crying earlier.  “She said something like that...that the power may not come the way we think it will.  The way my father believes it will.”  

 

“I did talk to Urbosa,” Link answered, and though it was hard to see in the dark, it looked like he might be blushing, “but not about the sword. You are the only person I’ve ever told about that.”

 

“No one?” I asked. I couldn’t help but think of Mipha, of the confidences they might have shared in the past.

 

“No one.” he repeated firmly, and I was mollified.  My head dropped back to his shoulder and I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the comfort of his closeness and warmth.  He tilted his head down to look at me, and he smiled, his teeth shiny and sharp by the light of the moon. 

 

“So, what does make the sword happy?” I asked.  Maybe what pleased the sword would please the goddess as well.  Link looked over at the blade as he pondered this question.

 

“It likes me to train…” he began. “As I grow stronger and more agile, I can tell that it is...pleased.”  

 

Training.  Why am I not surprised that the goddess sword would be pleased by rigorous training?  That is all I have done for the last ten years, though I have no indication that I have pleased anyone...least of all myself.  

 

“Is that all?” I asked, feeling defeated.  Link is most dedicated to his training, a master swordsman.  Could I ever be a priestess high enough to make my prayers heard?  What more can I do?

 

“No,” he told me. “I could tell that it liked killing the Yiga...but I don’t think it was just defeating the enemy that pleased it.”  Link hesitated a moment.  “It liked saving  _ you _ .”

 

That did surprise me.  It was the first indication I had that anything connected to the goddess considered me in any regard at all.  Can I trust what Link said to me?  I have no reason to think he would lie.  It is so hard to believe, though, especially what he said next.

 

“Also,” here Link paused to rub the back of his head, “It seems happy when we are getting along...you know, talking...and...such.”  He threw me a bashful look before turning his head to stare at the fire.  I considered this statement.

 

“You mean the sword likes it when you kiss me?” I asked bluntly.  Here was a turn of events.

 

He sighed, “I don’t know.”  Up came his hand again, to ruffle the hair at the back of his head.  Such a dear, nervous tic.  “I’m not always aware of it.”

 

I leaned into him and took a moment to gather my courage.  My head was on his shoulder, my face hidden in his neck when I proposed that we conduct an experiment to see what actions might please the sword.  Was it a blasphemous suggestion?  Link did not seem to think so for he answered me by placing his cool lips on mine.  

 

While this visit to the Spring of Power did not unlock my destiny, I did taste power, not the ability to seal away Calamity Ganon, but another kind of power that helps to seal away the darkness in my own soul.  With Link, I found that there is a kind of magic in skin and lips and sighs.  Is it divine?  I cannot say, but it is potent.

 

I traced the hard lines and planes of his chest, waist, and tapered hips.  I have tasted the salt of his skin on his neck, his shoulder and navel.  His breath will hitch in his throat, and he whines when I do this.  I like that sound very much.  When he holds me in his arms, his eyes darken, the pupils blown out and black.  As tender and soft as he can be with me, there comes a point when a wildness takes hold of him and he acts on instinct.  I am his prey, and he will lick and bite his bottom lip, hungry and wanting.  He devours my mouth, my neck and the softest parts of me.  Such a ravenous boy.  And when he comes to the end, when the feeling overwhelms him, he pants my name in an urgent whisper and the sweetest words tumble from his lips.

 

_ Lovely.  The loveliest.  Smoother than Gerudo silk.  Oh, Hylia! The only --  _

 

He is never so loquacious as when the moment takes him and he groans into my neck, words for me alone.

 

Does he feel the power too?  Can it in anyway compare to the power of the sword?  I asked him this when we lay shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank, staring at the stars, sweat cooling on our skin.  

 

He turned his head to look at me as well as he could in the starlight, but he did not reply.  I knew his ways, so I waited patiently before I repeated myself.  It may have been an unfair question.  After all, we have not truly come together as men and women do.  Even in the bold actions we have taken, there is restraint, a knowledge that to go too far would be scandalous at best, disastrous at worst.  

 

I am a priestess of Hylia and my kingdom’s last hope.  I must maintain some restraint.  But to be perfectly honest, I’m frightened.  Losing my control is not something that comes easily to me.  Since the age of six, I have maintained a strict command over my emotions and my actions.  To give myself over completely, even as sweet as I know it will be, is a terrifying prospect, and I suspect Link feels the same.  Even learning to speak openly with each other has been very slow going, and he has never pressed me for more than I was willing to give.

  
  


“Is it the same?” I asked again, running a hand across his belly and tracing that golden line of curly hair that had so captivated me some weeks before.  Now, after tonight, I knew first hand where it led.  The skin on his lower abdomen twitched, and he covered my hand with his own.  He laughed softly.

 

“No…” he replied, a note of incredulity in his answer that wounded me, “how could it be?”  

 

“How would I know?” came my retort and I withdrew my hand.   “I have never had the pleasure wielding my divine power.”  I drew up the cloak I used as a cover a little higher under my chin, feeling foolish.  I had hoped that these new feelings with Link may have been some inkling of the divine power, the hero and the princess unlocking the magic together.

 

He turned to me with a smile, and moved a strand of hair from my eyes.  “It is much better,” he whispered and kissed me on my temple, “Everything is better with you.”  There was so much more I wanted to say, wanted to ask, but a kiss on the temple became a kiss on the ear and then the neck, and soon I had no words at all. 

 

We have returned to the castle.  I do not have my sealing power, but my time at the Spring of Power has eased my soul and given me the strength to try once more, with all my might when I make my way to Mt. Lanayru just a few weeks from now.


	8. Excerpt 8 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

Mt. Lanayru awaits.  I have no real reason to believe that my prayers at the Spring of Wisdom will awaken anything within me, but I shall go, and make my way up the mountain.  Daruk, Mipha and Urbosa will be there at dawn to see me off on this journey.  Of course, Link will be by my side, and as much as I wish the magic of his skin on mine were enough, it is not.  My mind, my body, and my soul will be dedicated utterly to the goddess during this trip to my final destination to the frigid waters.  My stalwart knight will stand guard, and I know he will not let me falter.

 

I don’t know what I would do without him.  

 

Strange to write such a thing.  I, who have never wanted nor needed anyone before -- at least not since I was a child, should feel this way.  To think, how full of rage and despair I was when Father first appointed him as my personal protector.  Such a foolish pride -- I did not want anyone to know how weak and frightened I truly was, and truth be told, still am.  He makes me stronger, better.  Even knowing that he is as frightened by his role as I am brings a strange comfort.  Most of the kingdom would be in terror to know that even the Hero who has been chosen by the sword has doubts about his ability to play his divine role, but it lets me know that even if I don’t have a perfect faith, I might still have a right to the holy power.

 

I still do not know how to be the savior for my kingdom.  The other champions had trials and quests, battles that tested their strength and their wits and the very purity of their souls.  They were not found wanting.  What do I lack?  A sword is not my weapon -- I was not born with such a gift for battle as Link was.  Nor am I able to harness any kind of magic as Mipha, Urbosa and Daruk are able to do.  Revali’s Gale is a feat of pure will and intensive training, but my own training has been for naught.  What do I need?

 

I do know that I need him...Link.  The anatomical experimentation has been enlightening, but it is more than that.  Bodies have their biological purpose, and I have known for a long time that my body was meant to produce the next heir to Hyrule.  I like the way we fit together.  I like his kisses and the way he holds me, but I like better how he talks to me, even when he will talk to no one else.  I like his confidences and the fact that he keeps mine.

 

I like his cooking.  I like his jokes, even when they aren’t funny.  I like his fierceness in battle and his gentleness outside of it.  I like his loyalty and the way his blue eyes brighten when he is happy, especially how they brighten when he looks at me.

 

Who would have thought, but I like him very much, more than anyone I have ever known.  

 

I am glad he will be with me on the snowy peak of Mt. Lanayru as I make my final attempt to unlock the power to seal away the darkness.


	9. Excerpt 9 from Princess Zelda's Research Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100 years later...

I like him very much. Foolish girl. It only took the destruction of my kingdom and facing oblivion head-on that made me realize. Looking through the pages of this worn journal has made it all too clear. 

Like him? I loved him. I did love him then and I love him now, one hundred years later. Rather embarrassing to think Impa had this tucked away with the other belongings she saved in the hope of my return. I can only hope Paya never had a chance to thumb through my research. I wonder if it is possible, or necessary, to resume such experiments. Ganon is sealed away, and finally, I was able to be the princess I was born to be. With that task achieved, I’m not sure what more I can learn from Link.

When we stood, face to face again after a century apart, I asked him if he really remembered me. He stood in silence for such a long time, just staring at me, slightly swaying on his feet. The sun had emerged, burning away the blood and ash filled clouds that surrounded the castle. Birds were beginning to sing, but I could hear nothing but my heartbeat in my ears. Smeared with mud and blood and ash from two battles, a century apart, I waited for him to confirm or deny me. 

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice raspy, from the exertion of the battle, from the smoke and pollution that has permeated everything Calamity Ganon touched. Just one word, but his eyes told me so much more. There was a fond familiar light in them that gave me strength.

I took a tentative step forward and when he opened his arms wide, I rushed into them. Hysterical laughter bubbled up from my throat, or was it his? There was laughter and tears and he squeezed me tight, his face buried in my neck. I stroked through his tousled hair, matted with sweat and dirt, and like an animal, I nuzzled his face, his neck, an unearthly keening rising in my throat. I pressed my lips against his brow, his hair. He gave an answering whine and fell to his knees before me, his face pressed into my belly, his arms locked around my waist.

I do not know how long we stayed like that, his shoulders heaving, tears running down my face. I had been outside of time for so long, I could not judge. Was it minutes or hours? Soon enough, I also knelt and we held each other in silence for a very long time. The sun was hanging low in the sky, late afternoon, before we finally drew apart.

We were exhausted, but adrenalin from battle and the lingering presence of the goddess power sustained us when we rose to our feet, unsure what to do next. Silently we stared at the ruined castle, once our home and too long my prison. I did not want to go back inside -- not for clothes, not for food, not for weapons -- not yet. 

Even as we turned away, our backs to the castle once more, I felt compelled to turn back, the part of me that still communed with the deity felt the presence of spirits. My father was there, I was sure of it, along with the other champions, but when I turned to look, there was nothing. Link saw me pause and turned to see what I was looking for, but likewise, he saw nothing but the empty castle in the fading light.

That first night we could not sleep. We settled in the middle of Hyrule field, a vast beautiful expanse after my century of imprisonment. The horse Link rode into battle against the dark beast stood nearby, nibbling grass. We sat side by side, and I stared into the sky, feeling the night breeze and hearing the crickets and frogs singing a night song. My heart soared when I realized the gentle blue glow over all came from hundreds and hundreds of Silent Princesses, blooming and thriving. 

Link offered me food and drink from his pack, but I took only a sip of water. He ate his own meal quickly, and when he sat next to me again, he was close enough that our shoulders touched. He was as warm and solid as I remembered. 

I was free. Free from the calamity. Free from my sacred duty. Free from the kingdom I had failed so terribly. My happiness at this freedom horrified me, and a sob caught in my throat.

Link’s arm came up around my shoulder -- such an old familiar scene if he only knew. He began to talk, very low at first, and I felt myself comforted as he spoke. He told me about waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection, naked and afraid, how my voice was the first thing he heard, what a reassurance it was to him. Even with his memory all but gone and his body weak from his century long slumber, he told me that he knew my voice was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He told me about the Divine Beasts and the final words of our friends’ spirits. When he relayed Urbosa’s message, the tears returned briefly, but I knew I would reflect upon my dear friend’s final message to me in the days to come. For the time, I took what consolation I could. 

Link talked through the night, my once silent guard had opened the floodgates and the words poured out. He told me about Impa, grown so old and with a granddaughter! He told me about the horses he found, one that was the spitting image of Epona and one snow white stallion, the descendant of my lovely steed. He told me about sand surfing and how much fun he had and how he would like to do it again sometime. He told me about his house in Hataeno village -- he did not seem to realize that his family once lived there, but that was something I could share with him later -- and the cheeky Bolson and his team. Dawn was breaking as he finished telling me about Tarreytown and the wedding he attended there, the beautiful showers of flower petals raining down. 

That morning we decided to head toward Kakariko and to Impa, my dear, dear friend. What a reassuring thought to know that there were still a few who knew me and maybe loved me still. The journey would not take so very long on horseback, but we were beyond tired. The battle had finally begun to take its toll. I worried that I would not have the strength to face Impa and the loyal Sheikah, that I would collapse, a muddy shell of a princess. Sitting pillion behind Link on the weary horse that had been ridden into battle just the day before, I fretted silently over these trivial matters until I realized he was guiding us toward Riverside Stable.

“I thought we might clean up and rest a bit here first,” he said over his shoulder. The dear boy had read my mind. Either that, or he was as weary and filthy as I was. We dismounted a short distance away, and Link rummaged through his bags until he found a long Hylian cloak that he draped around my shoulders. He raised the hood over my head and smiled at me.

“There now,” he said, nodding with satisfaction, “No need to let anyone know who you are until you are ready to do so.” As I watched him raise his own hood and go off to register our mount and secure our beds, my heart gave a painful squeeze I had not felt for a century. Oh, I still loved him, not just as the descendent of Hylia must love and treasure her knight hero. I loved him. I could only hope he might one day be able to remember that he once cherished me and would grow to return my love. It was a great burden to lay upon him after so great a trial, and I myself was too tired to explore the idea further. I followed him with gratitude into the stable.

The facilities at the stable were primitive, but I was able to wash the worst of the battle away and Link gave me a spare set of clothes, a soft pair of well worn trousers and a shirt I recognized as the one he wore beneath his champions tunic so long ago. Both were too small for him and a trifle large for me, but they were warm and clean and smelled pleasantly of him. 

We sat by the fire, eating a hot stew of meat and mushrooms Link had prepared, my first taste of food in an age. Very few travellers were around -- not many people left the safety of their villages with the Calamity and the monsters scourging the countryside, so we were able to sit unquestioned until the need for sleep compelled us to leave the cozy warmth of the fire. I was too tired to react when Link joined me on the large bed and drew the curtains for privacy. 

“I figured it would be safer this way,” he told me, looking just the tiniest bit abashed. “While you and I know Ganon is defeated, there are still monsters and untrustworthy folk about.” I nodded and moved to one side so that he could lay himself down beside me. He sighed heavily when his head hit the pillow.

“This bed is very soft,” I remarked, settling deeper into the pillows. He grunted, already half asleep from the sound of it.

“Yes...it cost a little more,” he yawned, “but it’s worth it.” Within moments, I could hear the deep and regular sound of his breathing. He was sound asleep.

I lay there in the darkened safety of our bed curtains and reflected that for all the intimacies Link and I had shared in the past, we had never once been in a bed together. I turned on my side to watch him the semi-dark. I could hear the stable workers talking quietly and the occasional whicker of one horse to another. I felt warm and safe and before I knew it, I was asleep.

We slept for hours and hours. We had fallen asleep in the early evening. We did not wake until the evening of the next day, and even then, we only arose to take care of bodily needs and to eat a quick meal before falling back into bed where, I must confess, Link snored and I drooled and it was about as far from a romantic or heroic moment as anyone could imagine. It was just what I needed, however, and by the time the sun arose the next day, I felt as if I could face my past and maybe my future in Kakariko Village. How comforting to know that my heroic knight, currently snorting and mumbling himself awake, would be there by my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the end...yet.


	10. Excerpt 10 from Princess Zelda's Research Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the end. Full disclosure, part of Link's dialogue in this chapter was adapted from an episode of "Northern Exposure." Enjoy!

Finding my way forward has been difficult.  After all, I have not been myself for over a century.  No longer the disappointing daughter of the King.  No longer the goddess incarnate.  How odd to think that I have spent more time as a deity than as a young woman, not that it has left me with any great wisdom for what lies ahead.  I find myself almost as bewildered as Link was when he first woke from his restorative sleep.

 

Everything seems just a bit too much.  The sun is bright in my eyes.  My ears hear every rustle of plum blossoms in the trees, every buzz from the bees within the pink petals.  My skin quivers at the slightest breeze.  My senses are overwhelmed with the freshness of spring and life reawakening.  My body, so long held static in the goddess’s light is returning to a life of blood and sweat.  My desire rises like the sweet, sticky sap rising in the trees.  I feel as though I will burst from it sometimes.  

 

The Sheikah tribe, always so loyal to the royal family of Hyrule, have welcomed me from my sojourn into the divine realm, and Impa, loyal for a century, has been a bedrock for me, as she was for Link when he first awoke.  

 

Impa grown withered and ancient was a shock, though rationally I knew what to expect.  She is what I and Link should be had destiny not interfered.  Impa is old but hers was a life lived to the very fullest.  Her status as elder of the village and her lovely granddaughter bear witness to a life well lived, even if it was lived under the shadow of Calamity Ganon.

 

I am grateful to her and all of her people, and yet with my skin and eyes and ears so very attuned to life, I find the questions and the stories and the celebrations grating.  I feel bruised and raw still.  My feet and my hands are clumsy as the power of Hylia grows slowly dormant.  Even as I feel her withdraw, a new power and a new drive has overtaken me.  Not so new after all.  I had once mistaken it for the goddess’s power after all.  It is hunger and desire that stir me, that urge me to follow in Impa’s footsteps and study and live and love and birth.  

 

But how can I?  There are times when I wish I had the same kind of solitude Link had when he awoke.  A fresh start without expectations, at least until he was ready to deal with therm.  

 

Every morning since we arrived in Kakariko, I have awoken to Paya’s attentive ministrations.  Every afternoon, I have sat with Impa, listening to her recollections of the past century, trying to figure out my place in this new world, my next step.  Queen Zelda.  The rebuilder of Hyrule.  It’s not that it feels wrong, exactly, not that I don’t want to reform my kingdom, gather the remnants of my people but -- just not  _ yet _ .  I think I must still gather the remnants of myself, held so carefully in the goddess’s golden hands.  For one hundred years, I communed with Hylia trapped within the literal belly of the beast.  

 

I was never alone.  

 

I was  _ utterly _ alone.

 

Until…

 

Link awoke.  My spirit could follow him -- at least when I could spare the energy from my battle with Ganon.  I could speak to Link, and sometimes he would hear me, not with his ears, but our spirits and minds joined as one.  Even within Ganon’s hateful maw, he brought me comfort.   Now, with so many eyes upon us, I have little time with him alone.  There is so much I wanted to tell him before the Calamity struck -- if only the Great Deku Tree had heard my message.  I would not be in such uncertainty now.  Our first three nights together we shared so much but not enough.  

 

Every evening, I strive to capture a moment alone with Link before we return to our beds, mine next to Paya’s, his on the main floor below.  So close and yet so far.  I would like to think that Link feels the loss as I do, but it is difficult to say without speaking to him -- and it’s so difficult to find any privacy at all in this tiny village. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I would like to take you to Hateno,” he said to me this evening as we lingered near Koko’s cook fire, “to show you my house.”  It was just beginning to drizzle which had driven even the most curious back to their homes.  Rola, the owner of the Curious Quiver, cast me an oddly truculent glance when she hurried by, pushing a stray cucco aside with her foot none to gently.  

 

My heart leapt up at this, and I waited for him to continue.  It did not take him nearly as long to continue, not like the old days.  Words came to Link much more easily now.  

 

“You told me that I lived in Hateno before...well, before everything?” he asked me, and I nodded.  Before Link had been summoned to take his place in the Royal Guard, he had been living with his parents in Hateno, his own father on duty at the fort nearby.  Link had been taking me to his home when he sacrificed himself to save me.  We had hoped we might find a moment’s respite there before squaring up to face the Guardians and Calamity Ganon.  The best laid plans...

 

“Maybe it would help with some of my hazier memories if you were there with me, to tell me what you remember,” he said, hope in his tone, an earnest light in his eyes.  “It would be nice to remember a bit more of my folks and that part of who I was.”  

 

I studied him while I considered how to answer him.  He had grown taller and heavier with muscle -- a man’s body now, the hair thicker on his arms, the merest hint of golden stubble on his chin.  He looked so much like his father.  When I told him so, a wondering smile spread across his dear face.

 

“Do you think so?” he asked, “I can't quite remember his face.  Or my mother’s.”  He fell quiet, pondering his parents, his past, his very self,  I would imagine.  He sat with his hands clasped between his knees, looking into the fire.

 

“Do you remember anything about them at all?”  I asked after a few moments, laying a gentle hand on his forearm, so hard and warm with muscle.  I wondered at a new scar there -- it looked like a burn of some kind.  It was fresh and pink -- something that had happened since he had awoken.  Feeling a prickle come over me -- it felt like someone was watching me -- I looked up to see Paya’s curious face peering down at us from her grandmother’s balcony.  I sighed.

 

Link looked up at me with a gentle smile, seemingly unaware of our audience.  

 

“It's like when I first woke up and learned about you,” Link said.  “I remember how I felt.   I remember that they loved me that I loved them, but the details are a little fuzzy.”

 

My breath caught, and my poor heart raced.  I recall that it did that a lot around Link a century ago.  It was not a confession of love.  Was it?  

 

Regardless, it felt like the time was right for my confession -- the confession that had been interrupted one hundred years before.  Just as my divine power came to me in a most unexpected manner, so did the urge to tell Link what I needed him to know.  So there, in the rain, next to a child’s smoky cookfire, and under the distant gaze of a pining Sheikah maiden, I spoke.

 

“I love you.” I told him simply.  My voice was strong, and the truth of it sustained me.  He must have had some idea.  Our bond throughout time meant some sort of emotional connection, but I meant beyond that.  Beyond Hylia and her hero.  I, Zelda, the person in question, loved him, Link, the brave, blue-eyed glutton.

 

His easy smile grew broader.  “Oh!” he exclaimed, “I knew that.”  My hand was already on his arm, but my fingers clutched at his rolled up sleeve.

 

“You kno--” I began.  

 

“I told you about, Kass,” he started to explain, which he had, a little, but I’m not sure what that had to do with anything, “And then there were the memories, the Deku Tree,  and the way you looked at me…”

 

I felt my face flushing red, but I kept my eyes locked on his.  He was dithering a bit, but he did not seem upset.  If anything, he looked pleased.

 

“I just know and --” his smile turned bashful and he looked down at the fire again, “I love you, too.”  He looked up sideways at the very end of that statement and to see my reaction to that declaration.

 

What could I say?  No words could suffice, so I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek, laughing with delight.  His sweet laughter joined mine, how easily he laughed now, and he returned my embrace.  After an all too brief moment in his arms, I felt him looking over my shoulder, at the peeking Paya.  He raised one hand in a wave.  I heard a distant “Eep!” and she disappeared from view.

 

He laughed again and pulled back to hold my face in his hands.  

 

“I think we should leave for Hateno first thing tomorrow,” he told me with a grin.    

 

And so we shall.  Impa, having heard much from Paya before we made our way back to her house, agreed with our decision, a merry twinkle in her warm brown eyes.  It shall be difficult to sleep tonight, especially with Paya, curious and eager peering at me from her pillow, but all will be well in the morning.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Even if I had not loved Link before, how easy it was to love him as I looked over him with the loving, watchful eyes of Hylia as he journeyed through Hyrule, being refined into the hero of heroes.  I rejoiced at his triumphs over the monsters and disloyal Yiga.  I wept at his hurts and his lonely vigils in valleys and atop mountain peaks.  I laughed at his trials with cuccos and unfriendly Gerudo guards, as much as one could laugh while locked spirit to spirit,  flesh to flesh with the abomination that is Ganon -- but that is a telling for another time.  For now, I have whispered my century of torment only to Link, my mouth close to his ear when he holds me in the dark, when the memory of malice and death chase sleep from us both.  I am no longer quite the same girl that I was before my battle, but he loves me all the better for it he says.

 

Soul has met soul how many times before? The legends say that every single Zelda and her hero have combined their power and their spirits to defeat the Calamity.

 

How many also joined physically, heart to heart, skin to skin?  How many princesses and heroes came together not only to destroy malice but to create love and new life? Not so very many it would seem.  Many of the legends end abruptly after the defeat of the evil.  That the princess eventually marries and has a child is a given.  Where would we who carry the goddess blood come from after all, but it is so far in the past, it is sometimes unclear who fathered these granddaughters of Hylia.

 

It was not often the hero, I don’t think.

 

I know because I learned my mythology.  I know because I learned the royal family tree.  I also know because my soul rejoiced when Link and I came together, a fierce joy suffused my being.  It was not just my love, but the love of the others who came before, those who had been denied this most basic and primal way of showing love.  It was feeling of  satisfaction and home far beyond the mere pleasure of the body.

 

Though that was very nice too.

 

After the first time, in his bed in his little house in Hateno, we lay side by side, my head on his shoulder, my right hand clasping his left, both resting on his chest.  Words failed me at that moment.  I was at perfect peace and utterly fulfilled.  How could I speak when such joy existed?

 

How could I speak when Link could not stop speaking?

 

“This one time, I was up in Hebra for what felt like _weeks_ , and it was so cold...it was raining, snowing and freezing.”  I felt more than saw him glance down at me, so I nodded, even though I was not sure I was following him very well.  He’d been talking quite a bit since...well, since the  _ conclusion _ of our embrace. It had started with muttered declarations of love and sweet, half-spoken phrases broken by tender kisses placed upon my lips, my cheeks and my brow.  By the time the blood stopped pounding in my ears, he had already launched into this meandering tale.  I wasn’t quite sure what he was on about, but I loved the sound of his voice, and so I lay in his arms quite content to let him do the talking.

 

“I didn’t know what to do...there were no houses, no people.  I was going to start a fire and try to make it through the night as best I could when I stumbled upon this hot spring. I jumped in so fast, I barely took the time to drop my weapons.  I thought that felt good,” he sighed happily.

 

I made a sound of agreement and let my hand trace the massive, silvery scar on his abdomen.   I felt languid and happy.  If Link wanted to talk about hot springs at that moment, I was willing to listen.  

 

“Another time, my arm caught on fire from a flaming Bokoblin arrow, it took a while to heal...I hadn’t received Mipha’s Grace yet...I sort of knew Zora’s Domain existed...I mean Impa had told me...but I had not been there yet…so Mipha’s spirit could not heal me...”  I wondered where this line of thought was going.  My hand stilled its movement on his belly.  

 

“So, I just wrapped it in leaves and whatever and hoped for the best.  It healed okay, but toward the end, when the new skin was growing, the scabs were drying out and it itched  _ like crazy _ .  I was always sticking a stick under the bandages, you know...to itch it.  Finally, I couldn’t help myself, and I sat down and scratched all the scabs off.  I thought that felt  _ REALLY _ good!”  He grinned at me.

 

I am sorry to say I did not smile back.  We had just made love, a beautiful union of flesh and spirit.  He mouth and skin brought me to the highest peaks of pleasure.  What  _ was  _ he on about?  

 

He smiled, a lovely pink flush on his cheeks, toying with a lock of my hair.  “But this...oh by the goddess and all the stars…”  he sighed happily.  He bent his head to look me straight in the eye.  

 

“Would it be alright if, you know, we did it again?” he asked hopefully.

 

Well, of course it was alright.  He pulled me astride him, and I bent to kiss him again.  I tried to pour my entire heart into that kiss, to let him know that I understood, that nothing else left to me in this life that I had remaining could ever be as precious to me as him.  Just in case the kiss was not enough, I showed him I loved him other ways, taking my time to trace the lines of his abdomen, to caress and kiss the scars that lined almost every part of him, until he was writhing beneath me, gasping my name.   _ Zelda...Zelda. _

 

When once again we lay side by side and breathless, he was much quieter, staring up at the ceiling with a reflective look.

 

“We never did that...before, did we?” he asked me.

 

“No.” I said.  I wasn’t sure if I should go into any other detail at that moment.  He may come to remember in time, the things I have recorded here, even if it is just in reading through these pages.

 

“No.  I didn’t think so,” he said.  There was a long pause.  “But there were...other things?”

 

“Yes,” I said, “Do you not remember, Link?”  Of all the things to forget...those moments were quite unforgettable to me.  “It’s okay if you do not.  Your memories may still return, and if not...well, there are new ones to be made.”   I gave him what I hoped was a smouldering look and let my hand drift downward to lightly trace my fingers over his thigh, his hip...but he did not react other than to lean toward me and gently kiss the top of my shoulder.  He kept his mouth against my skin, taking deep slow breaths.

 

“You know, I always thought what it would be like,” he said quietly against my shoulder “but it was much different.  Much, much different.”

 

“What?” I asked him.  I brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked down at his dear face.  I loved these quiet moments between us when he felt safe enough to tell me his true thoughts.

 

“Sex.” Such a blunt response.   I must have looked surprised because he pulled me to him, to hold me close before he continued.  “It’s like sand surfing.  Everyone in Gerudo town told me how much fun it was, but then I did it, and it was much better than anything I thought it would be.  I raced my sand seal four times that day.  Each time, I found some new subtlety of movement or shift of weight that made me go even faster, made it even better.  And the feeling in it...so much feeling.”

 

“Maybe I don’t want you to go faster,” I teased.  Though fast was good the first time, I liked the slow, heavy rhythm of our second joining, our bodies pressed together tightly.

 

He quirked up the corner of his mouth in a sly smile, “Well, maybe not exactly like sand surfing...but exhilarating all the same.”

 

“Yes, I can see that.  I remember how the first time we...well, the first time we were intimate, that I thought we must have unlocked some aspect of the goddess magic.”  I smiled, a bit ruefully.  I could not expect him to remember everything, but I had hoped that he would remember those special moments we shared.

 

He studied me for a moment before answering me.

 

“I do remember how it was between us...it’s just that sometimes, it feels like the more  _ interesting _ parts are a little blurry.”  He ran a finger over my collarbone and traced a line down my sternum before laying his palm over my heart, over my breast.  “Now though, I see that you are familiar to me, this real and solid you, Zelda Bosphorama Hyrule.  Our souls have met across lands and time, but there has never been this version of us before, laying here together like this.  This is all ours.”

 

And so this research journal comes full circle.  I began this work one hundred years ago, to observe a known hero, to collect data and analyze it so that I could distill the principles of being a champion.  What I discovered was a love that helped me unlock my divine birth rite.  

 

Perhaps I will now observe Link to try to learn how to rebuild my life, to figure out who I am apart from my role as the high priestess of Hylia and destroyer of Ganon.  His house, his friends...he has achieved so much apart from his heroic duty.  Link has discovered the secret of living beyond duty.  Legends all end.  Stories must have some end, but the people go on.  I hope that we will go on, here in our house, a new daughter of Hyrule in my belly, resting and preparing for another duty: the restoration of our land and our people.  Come what may,  together Link and I will live beyond the legend our duties thrust upon us.  He was the light of Hyrule.  Our light.  Now he is mine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the encouragement and love you have shown to this little tale!


End file.
